


Steadily Forward

by magikspell



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Babylock, Epistolary, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Parental John, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-08-31 19:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8590027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magikspell/pseuds/magikspell
Summary: After dosing himself with an experimental age-regression drug from Baskerville, Sherlock finds himself a small baby who ages one year every five days. John finds himself entirely unprepared for this.Epistolary fic told through John's observational journals.





	1. Baby's First Year

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking out my story! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Note: This fic is established relationship in that John and Sherlock were together before the age-regression and will be together again once he is an adult. Rating is subject to change at that point.

**A yellow note stuck to the front of a brand new Moleskine:**

_John-_

_Get me data. I need everything! Nothing is insignificant._

_Will apologise once I'm able to speak._

_Sherlock_

* * *

**Mobile Transcript  
** Outgoing call from JOHN at 16:07:32  
Received by MYCROFT at 16:07:48 

[J]: Come and see to your brother. He's done it, and you _knew_ he would, and my _god_ , why didn't I stay with him, the giant cock!

[M]: John. A pleasure.

[J]: [ _a baby's screams in the background_ ]

[M]: Always did have quite the pair of lungs.

[J]: Funny. [ _frustrated pause_ ] How long?

[M]: He did enjoy his dummy. Overmuch, perhaps; it was confiscated when he was three.

[J]: How long with the _drug effects_ , Mycroft? [ _incoherent muttering and more baby cries_ ]

[M]: Six months on average for men of his age-- at a growth rate of approximately one year every five days.

[J]: I'm going to kill him. I'm going to wait until he's eighteen, and then I'm going to kill him.

[M]: [ _soft chuckle_ ] Oh, Dr. Watson.

[J]: Tell me, does he know anything? [ _pause_ ] How much memory is retained? [ _as if to himself_ ] _Jesus_ , I'm going to need to toilet train him, aren't I?

[M]: Not unless he decides to be difficult. 

[J]: [ _mocking_ ] Not unless he decides to be difficult. [ _audible scoff_ ] You _do_ know that it is Sherlock we're talking about? I'll be wiping his arse until he's--

[M]: All memories are intact, though he'll only be able to access that which his developmental level allows.

[J]: _Christ_. [ _pause_ ] Fucking hell. I'm going to kill him. [ _murmuring and the crackle of blown-out breath_ ] Why, for the love of _God_ , did you allow him access to this? 

[M]: It _is_ harmless, though entirely ridiculous. 

[J]: [ _as if remembering_ ] Mmm, yes, it was the case, wasn't it? That damned case in Scotland with the--

[M]: You know I despise legwork.

[J]: So I gather.

[ _Mrs Hudson: John, you'll want to take him, dear..._ ]

[ _murmuring from John_ ]

[M]: Do care for the child, Dr. Watson. He was at his most charming before he learnt to speak, after all.

[J]: [ _sarcasm_ ] Cheers, mate.

[M]: Supplies will be delivered within the hour.

[J]: That's it? 

[M]: [ _long pause_ ] I recall that he enjoyed "Baa, Baa Black Sheep" and a rhyme about quacking ducks.

[J]: _Jesus_.

[M]: Afternoon, John.

**call disconnected by MYCROFT at 16:14:21**

* * *

** Journal, Day 1: **

Observations  
**4:27 PM:** Sherlock, you are an actual dick and I will kill you with my bare hands once you're old enough to defend yourself.

 **5:02 PM:** You are small and pink and bald. 4ish??? weeks.

 **6:39 PM:** I don't know what to write here, Sherlock, except that when you are not screaming you are shitting so thanks ever so for this.

 **7:42 PM:** Mrs Hudson has managed to shut you up by patting your bum and singing some old song about the moon so thanks ever so for this also.

 **8:51 PM:** FYI: Shitpocalypse caused by the Chinese from last night and you don't want to know how I can tell.

 **9:17 PM:** Also FYI: You are very cute when you aren't shitting or screaming, though that is almost never.

 **10:01 PM:** Have discovered the following after a bath: all scars are still present though very pale and thin as if they will grow with you. These scars on anyone, let alone you and let alone a baby, makes me feel ill, Sherlock. (side note: Suppose this is why the drug was deemed a failure--no actual regeneration, just a superficial repeat journey through the life stages.)

 **10:55 PM:** I'm curious as to how the aging will work. Suppose I could read the files from the Baskerville patients whilst you sleep. Mycroft said ~5 days per year, so will you be several months older in the morning? Perhaps your hair has grown already. This is strange, Sherlock, even for you.

 **12:49 AM:** It may be the unholy amount of gas in your tiny body but you smiled. I have you on the bed and you kicked your legs and grinned at me. According to Mycroft, your memory is intact but you can only access it when your brain is developed enough. I wonder if you recognize me? 

**2:11 AM:** FYI: You are actually  incredibly cute when you aren't shitting or screaming. You're asleep. I've got you nestled in the crook of my arm and you look peaceful. You have definitely grown over the past 10 hours. Your head is fuzzier and you've got a bit of lashes and eyebrows. I oddly didn't notice until now, when I'm really thinking about it. Suppose I'll wake in the morning to an older baby. I'm rambling, but you're sweet like this, you know? I gave you a kiss on the head and you made a baby noise, so thanks ever so for that too. Reckon I'll put you to bed. Hope these observations are enough, Sherlock.

Stats  
**Weight:** 3.6 kg

 **Height:** 51.2 cm

 **Nappies:** 11!!!! All dirty because you were a literal shite machine so I haven't the faintest how much urine you expelled, sorry. Your poo was orange and there were bits of rice, and I now know far too much about your digestive system, Sherlock. This is very gross when you know the adult version of the baby and I fear I'll never be able to get the things I've seen, smelled, and heard today out of my head.

 **Food:** Formulae attempted hourly to prevent dehydration but you were sick and uninterested. I managed to get you to drink some but you needed more, so I will keep trying. Hope this doesn't become a running theme.

 **Sleep:** Not enough for your age but you're asleep now. Perhaps 2 hours total so far. I'm not sure what to expect from a baby you, though I suspect baby you is like baby everybody else and Adult Sherlock is the real pain in the arse.

 **Summary:** Smelly but cute and I'm exhausted. Goodnight, Sherlock.

* * *

**DAY 2**

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[L]: Sherlock in?

[J]: Not a good time Greg, sorry

[L]: Only I've phoned him all day with no answer, no txts either. He ok?

[J]: Technically yes

[L]: What does that mean?

[image sent]

[J]: A bit smaller than usual as you can see

[L]: What the hell?!?! Is that Sherlock??

[J]: Some of him

* * *

[Mol]: John, why is Sherlock a baby?

[J]: Long and unfortunate story

[J]: You've talked to Greg then

[Mol]: Yes.

[Mol]: I mean, he was just round the morgue.

[Mol]: I ran into him at the morgue.

[J]: ok!!

[image sent]

[J]: Love, Sherlock

[Mol]: OMG xoxoxo

* * *

** Journal, Day 2: **

Observations  
**5:01 AM:** I can't sleep because I keep looking at you. You are growing little by little and I swear I don't notice it whilst I'm with you but the moment I leave the room and come back something has changed. You've lost your newborn pink skin and there's a bit of a whorl at the back of your head.

 **6:48 AM:** Shitstorm 2: Return of the Diarrheoa --- No really, it completely escaped your nappy and went up your side. I just wiped poo out of the crease of your armpit. How? Science that one, genius.

 **8:06 AM:** You're much more alert than yesterday. I've got you in the crook of my arm again and you're staring up at me. I think you know me but you don't know you know me. What's going on in that head, little guy? 

**11:47 AM:** Your mum and dad just left and Sherlock Holmes, you looked at your mother like the sun rises and sets on her. I'll not let you deny it again. She kissed your toes and sang to you and I've got all the pictures of your tiny baby smiles. Your da was a bit bewildered whilst holding you but you can't fault the man that. He warmed up and sang some funny song and you touched his bowtie. Thanks ever so for this experience. I'll think of it next Christmas whilst you moan about your family dinners. I may even remind you.

 **1:14 PM:** I've officially called in for two weeks leave at work due to a small family emergency. I'm punny. You're cute. I just watched you suck on the side of your hand until you fell asleep.

 **3:17 PM:** All hail sleep and a simple wet nappy. Also on an unrelated note, Lestrade and Molly are absolutely sleeping together.

 **4:04 PM:** You've got more head fuzz now and your eyes are beginning to lighten. Suppose you're around 13 weeks?? I've read an entire goddamned baby book. What the hell.

 **5:55 PM:** You're laughing, Sherlock. It sounds like a horrifying possessed doll but it is adorable. I pretend to nibble on your fists and feet and you lose it, giggling and kicking your legs and moving your arms. You've also cooed. Proper cooed, like those fake baby noises on the telly. What a lovely little lad. Remind me to read back over this when you're an adult again and I'm once more considering killing you over this whole thing.

 **7:44 PM:** I was happy because you rolled over but then I was sad when I picked you up to find shit up your back again. How the hell does this happen, Sherlock. 

**9:11 AM:** I'm giving you a cuddle whilst you sleep and I watch crap telly. Your mum brought a bumblebee blanket, and I've got you wrapped up like a little burrito with a fuzzy head. You've had a bath so you smell nice, and you're warm and you occasionally smile in your sleep. I do adore you. It isn't like a father-son thing really, as that would be even weirder and slightly terrifying, I think, considering our adult life together. I'm just very glad that I know this little boy and I want to love him and keep him safe and healthy and happy because he will one day be you. You will roll your eyes at this I know, sorry, but I wanted to write this because that's how I felt today.

Stats  
**Weight:** 5.1 kg

 **Height:** 55.4 cm

 **Nappies:** 6 wet, 2 dirty and ridiculous. I don't understand.

 **Food:** Impressive eater. I'm proud and will remind you of this next month when you're 6 and don't want your peas. Or in 6 months when you're 37 again and don't want your peas. Jesus, this is strange. Also FYI: You like to hold the finger of the person feeding you. Thanks.

 **Sleep:** 14 hours total since last journal. Thanks again.

 **Summary:** Slightly bigger, slightly less smelly, slightly less but stranger methods of poo, lots of smiles and a frightening laugh. I'm terribly fond.

* * *

**DAY 3**

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[image sent]  
[image sent]  
[image sent]

[L]: Ahhh the lil guy. Cute

[Mol]: xoxoxo Beautiful young man 

[J]: Thanks

[J]: Or not thanks I suppose, he isn't mine

[J]: But yes, he's charming

[Mol]: Feel free to bring him by, John! I'd love to give him a bit of a cuddle.

[L]: Here too, can't promise a cuddle but perhaps a photograph with the department

[J]: Not sure about NSY now Greg, sorry, but perhaps when he's 5 and wants a case. Doubt I could keep him away then. Come by Baker St ? 

[J]: Will bring him by Barts Mol, maybe today if that's ok? Greg?

[Mol]: Yay! Can't wait! xoxo Greg can stop by! :)

[L]: I'll bring my camera.

* * *

[image sent]  
[image sent]  
[image sent]

[M]: He seems well.

[J]: He'd like to see you I think

[J]: Could be interesting anyway

[J]: Jesus I sound like Sherlock

[M]: I've an appointment with Russia at 2pm, but perhaps arrangements can be made.

[J]: Any time. Come by

* * *

[image sent]

[J]: Thank you for the bee blanket, he loves it

[Mummy]: Oh my boy. He was a beautiful child. Thank you John.

[Mummy]: He had one just the same when he was young. I would have sent it along were it not tattered and stained. Always was a snuggler, our Sherlock. Loved his security blankets. Had a plush rabbit named Hoppy he chewed the ears on for ages, not to mention his dummy.

[J]: Thanks for that Mrs Holmes. You're a star

[Mummy]: What a good man you are, John. Sherlock is lucky to have you.

[J]: I'm lucky to have him too

[image sent]

[J]: Big or small

[Mummy]: What a little dear! I miss him so. xo

* * *

** Journal, Day 3: **

Observations  
**7:12 AM:** You slept for ages. Actual ages-- you look about a month older this morning which is just bizarre. I've got you in a cot by the bed and you woke me babbling. "Ba ba ba" and "muh muh muh" sounds mostly. You'd also rolled or wriggled down to the other end of the cot. This is amazing, Sherlock. Two days ago you were pink and so small you couldn't lift your head and now you're blowing raspberries and entertaining yourself with your sounds. Will you say my name today? Perhaps you know it now. You babbled to me the whole time I gave you a nappy change and when I snuggled you for a bit you just smiled and smiled. Don't mean to be a sop, sorry. Time for brekkie.

 **9:04 AM:** Your hair is growing. No curls to speak of yet but just more of it. What a little bald baby you were, I was honestly surprised. Light brown hair, too. I'm watching you roll around on the play mat Mycroft sent, reaching for a set of plastic keys. I didn't know babies did this really, the rolling and inch-worming thing. You're so little still but you're making your way. 

**10:24 AM:** I'm thinking of you being about 13 years old, all moody and spotty. I forgot we'll be going through that too. Suppose we'll be there soon. I'm taking this version of you to Bart's in a mo. Molly and Greg want to see you and I'm excited to see your reaction. Greg suggested a stop by NSY but I declined. Not for babies I shouldn't think, perhaps for silly little 5 or 6 year olds who would like to solve a crime. Will you want to solve crimes then? Or will we watch cartoons and eat hobnobs with milk? Did you like colouring? I've not the foggiest what to expect.

 **2:08 PM:** You absolutely knew Molly and Greg but my GOD did you not want to be held by Molly!! I felt like an embarrassed mum when you started to scream. Ridiculous tears and snot! Scared Greg off I think, as he didn't even ask to hold you after that. We had to have a talk, Sherlock, about being proper around friends. You blinked your eyes at them after that and I swear you knew. Perhaps you didn't KNOW know really, but you understood my tone and held Molly's finger when she offered. Her own finger not the finger off a cadaver, which I sadly feel the need to clarify. Bet you'd love that though. I will NOT be trying it out just yet. At any rate, Molly and Greg found you lovely and beautiful of course, despite your behaviour. Greg got a photo (or 2 or 10). Not sure what he's doing with them but I suppose we'll find out. Also FYI: It is a nightmare moving a small child about London. How the hell do people do this? Thank God you can support your neck and back and can be properly held on my hip now. I don't know how I could have dealt with a swaddled newborn.

 **4:44 PM:** Your brother adores you, Sherlock. Not as if I needed to tell you, but there it is. He visited for about an hour, had tea, and was generally not very conversational but of course he never is. Oh, and he held you for literally the entire time and rubbed your back. He said hardly a word to you but the two of you were having an honest to God cuddle and I'm stupidly charmed by it. I've got about 20 photos on my phone. I should have one framed. I know this will piss you off and I'm dead chuffed.

 **5:35 PM:** I had you sat up by the fireplace and I was playing with you, walking a plush dog past, saying "Bye bye, dog" and having him hide behind a pillow each time. After a few passes, when I said "bye bye" you would automatically start to scoot toward the pillow, knowing where the dog would go. Thought this was of note. You're clearly storing memory now. Your language has progressed and now consists of more varied babbling: ma, ba, da, muh, buh, nuh, really anything ending in -ah or -uh. I'm just waiting for "no" to start. You look the type to say that a lot.

 **7:02 PM:** I'm a fucking psychic, of course "no" would be your first word. Thanks ever so for this. I'm really loving the "nononononono" and the putting literally whatever your little hands will reach immediately into your mouth, dribbling all over everything, and crying when I've confiscated say a goddamned cigarette you found in the slipper. What the hell, Sherlock.

 **7:55 PM:** Annnnnd he crawls. You're crawling. FYI: To snatch another cigarette you found in the fireplace.

 **8:47 PM:** When did you start hiding individual cigarettes around the flat, you giant nutter? You keep finding them. "Nononononono" you say to puppy and to bumblebee but those fingers keep finding literally everything I would very much prefer a 6-month old to not find, thanks. 

**10:24 PM:** You're fun tonight, and I write that only somewhat sarcastically. I gave you a bit of mashed banana and it came right back out no more than 20 minutes later which was fantastic. You've managed to stop shitting up to your armpits though, so cheers for that. But aside from your petulance which is somehow charmingly you and your nicotine habit which has apparently not been rectified despite the 37 year age regression, you're a lovely boy. Again, only somewhat sarcastically. You had a laugh in the bath, giggling at the bubbles and the duck, and can I tell you how much easier life is when you can sit up on your own? After your bath you were sleepy, so we had a bottle and a snuggle and you kept poking my mouth with your fingers and batting at my nose. We worked on saying "John," you said "badababa no no no" so I suppose that's something. You're getting more and more hair, your eyes are getting lighter by the hour it seems, and you've got rolls, my friend. I could talk about how cute it is that you've got a little tum but I feel you'd react negatively when you read this. So I won't talk about it or your chubby legs and baby double-chin, which are all lovely to see. Neither will I discuss how your mum phoned me asking for photos of you because she "loved you plump like a Christmas turkey" the first time around and she wanted a memory. It was a good day. You're conked out, and I'm getting there. Time to put you to bed. Goodnight, Sherlock.

Stats  
**Weight:** 8.1 kg (you gained 3 kilo since yesterday morning!!!)

 **Height:** 64.9 cm (and grew 9 cm!!)

 **Nappies:** 8 wet, 1 dirty and horrific

 **Food:** Started with some solids today between bottle feedings, a bit of mashed banana and apple sauce. You were a very cute but messy eater and enjoyed blowing raspberries when you'd had enough. I won't go into the aftermath and the nappy situation. See the descriptor above.

 **Sleep:** What a great sleeper you are. Still averaging about 14 hours total, 9 at night and 5 in naps throughout the day. Thanks again, Sherlock.

 **Summary:** You've grown a ridiculous amount today, and it's quite extraordinary. Still very fond and happily anticipating what tomorrow holds.

* * *

**DAY 4**

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[video sent]

[J]: Hello Mrs Holmes, hope you and Mr Holmes are well. Sherlock sends his love

[Mummy]: Brilliant John, thank you! What a growing boy!

[J]: Shockingly so, yes

[image sent]  
[image sent]

[J]: The most bizarre thing to wake up to! 

[Mummy]: Mind them please, John. He was a notorious biter!

[image sent]

[J]: Unfortunately found that out myself

* * *

[image sent]

[J]: A small squirrel

[Mol]: [5 heart eyes emojis]

[L]: This is going on my desk

[J]: I've considered it myself, Greg, for when I'm thinking of killing him once he's back to normal

[L]: Maybe I should have it blown up for the wall at NSY

[J]: May ruin his tall, dark and mysterious reputation but could very well save his life

[J]: Consider it

* * *

[image sent]

[J]: The tiniest muskrat

[M]: Good lord!

* * *

[image sent]

[J]: Enjoy your time at your sister's Mrs Hudson

[MH]: prECIOUS LAMB thank u jOHN

[MH]: suCH TEETH

[J]: Mrs Hudson are you ok

[MH]: yes dar

[J]: ok!!!

* * *

** Journal, Day 4: **

Observations  
**6:54 AM:** Major developments this morning: 1) We have our first "Jah." Mostly it's "jahjahjahjah" when I'm holding you. At any rate, I'm counting it, you've said my name, thank you. As of this moment, your vocabulary stands at "no," "John," and "hi." Thank God you haven't yet learnt "cigarette." You're obsessed enough with them already. Another one under the sofa discovered this morning within two minutes of you being on the sitting room floor. 2) You are no longer toothless. In fact, you quite literally grew four teeth overnight and now look like a cute fancy rat with just your 2 top and 2 bottom. I've sent pictures to everyone and I'm not the littlest bit sorry. Based on the tooth situation, I would place you at about 8 or 9 months old as of this morning.

 **9:15 AM:** We worked on our standing after breakfast. You've not yet got any balance, but you're able to stand if I hold both of your hands. Right now we're on our way out for a stroll. I've not really left the flat with you much aside from our visit to Bart's, I suppose because I'm not sure how to handle a baby in London, but I've got you bundled up now and strapped into a pushchair and I reckon we'll go by the park and then to the shops for food. And I've only just realised that I'll need to actually get you down the staircase and outside and yet I've already strapped you into the pushchair why the hell did I strap you into the pushchair goddammit 

**1:47 PM:** The park was lovely. We walked around and looked at the swans, which FYI scared you to death when we got near which was equal parts amusing and adorable. Afterwards, I let you crawl in the grass and explore. You mostly occupied yourself with pulling up shards and getting bits all over your clothes and in your mouth. I showed you bugs and a bee on a flower and you were fascinated, dribbling and talking at everything with your babbling baby voice. You were so charming that I pulled you in for a cuddle, and you proceeded to bite my cheek so hard you drew blood. I've got a bruise now. Texted your mum and she said you were a biter, so that's wonderful. I must've reacted suddenly or pulled away sharply because you began to cry and cry until I found another bug for you to watch. The park exhausted you, so you slept through our visit to Tesco's. A shame really because I wanted to see your face when you saw a shop for the first time.

 **3:19 PM:** You're constantly on the go. I've got you sectioned off in the sitting room with cushions and chairs because you have the speediest crawl I've ever seen. "Beebeebeebahbahbah" you say as you dash towards your plush bumblebee after I toss it. I feel as if I'm playing fetch with an excitable puppy. 

**4:01 PM:** Today you've got the tiniest hint of curl to your hair, mostly just the ends of your fuzz starting to bend, particularly at the back of your head. According to the Baskerville files, hair is the only thing that will need to be tended as you grow. Your body, teeth, etc. will grow into exactly how they were before you took the drug, almost regardless of human intervention short of actual injury or surgery, but not the hair. Suppose I'll get to take you for a trim when you're 4 or 5.

 **5:39 PM:** Sherlock is now a little cruiser. I just watched you pull up on the side of the sofa and cross the length of it whilst using it for balance. I'm proud. I gave you a bit of a tickle after and you screamed with laughter and yelled "Jah!" 

**7:09 PM:** Cut up some finger foods for you to have with dinner, bits of tinned pear and peach, and you managed to sloppily get them off the tray of your highchair with your tiny pincer fingers and shove them in your mouth. And again with the soppiness but it was terribly sweet when you would have some pear and then grin at me with your four teeth, your face a mess. I have to say, Sherlock, that you're an impressive eater for such a little lad and for someone who's...you. I will definitely be reminding you of this later.

 **8:21 PM:** Had a Skype chat with your mum and dad. You kept tapping at the keyboard and closing out the video, so that was unfortunate and yet so completely expected, but we managed to get them back and a lovely time was had by all. Your mum called you her "turkey boy" when she saw your full tum from dinner. Thought I would let you know because I thought it was quite fantastic indeed, my Christmas turkey. 

**9:34 PM:** Might have scared you to death with the stopper in the bath. Sorry about that. I didn't think it through and pulled it before snatching you up and you cried for such a long time. I wrapped you up in your bee blanket and tried to sing to you but you didn't like my songs. Then I remembered Mycroft said you loved a song about a duck and I wasn't sure which he meant, so I simply quacked at you for an age. You stared at me in such disbelief that I swore you knew exactly how ridiculous I was being. When I quacked again you began your possessed doll giggles and then mimicked me with an odd quack-like sound yourself. This turned into 10 minutes of us quacking and losing our breath laughing.

 **11:06 PM:** All the giggling must have kept you awake longer than usual, but I finally got you to sleep and in your cot. You spent the last hour crawling about the flat, knocking over bins and sorting through the trash and getting into any open space such as the bathroom cupboard and beneath the bed. I pulled you out coated in dust bunnies and you sneezed the grossest, snottiest sneeze directly in my face. Thanks for that. If this is any indication of how you'll be when you're 2 I can safely say I'm going to be a busy man over the next several weeks. Suppose it won't be too different from usual, as it's still a Sherlock who's all too wiggly and silly for his own good but of whom I'm so terribly fond. I do find myself missing the real you, though, even if the tiny version of you is a charmer. Sometimes I wish you could be here with us, that I could watch you chase around a squirrely baby with fancy rat teeth and laugh. I know none of this makes sense but, well, the whole situation is ridiculous in itself isn't it? Goodnight, Sherlock.

Stats  
**Weight:** 9.0 kg

 **Height:** 72.9 cm

 **Nappies:** 9 wet, 2 dirty

 **Food:** Adding in solid foods to every meal to supplement the bottle. You love tinned peaches and pears but aren't too fond of actual baby food. Perhaps it was the flavours, chicken with gravy and then the macaroni. You've also nibbled and dribbled on some rusks and seem to enjoy them. Still a fantastic eater, Sherlock Holmes.

 **Sleep:** You slept less today than you have the past few days--about 12 hours total. You were quite excitable today and tough to wind down, but you were happy.

 **Summary:** I cannot wait to sleep. You've exhausted me.

* * *

**DAY 5**

** From Baskerville File #0184245, Effects of A241 **

_... Subjects exposed to the drug age approximately one year every 4.8 days. Rate of growth is typically gradual, with development occurring at a steady pace, but studies have shown that instances of stasis of two or more days followed by a sudden spurt of growth are possible._

_Developmentally, subjects are statistically normal for their age. Though at an abnormally rapid rate, unless impeded by illness or disability, subjects follow the typical pattern of physical, intellectual, and emotional growth characteristic of most developing humans. As babies, subjects respond to instruction and practice the same as babies who have not been administered the drug, in that they have the ability to learn words and concepts, to crawl and to walk as if for the first time. If left untaught, subjects will learn on their own as brain development occurs and memory is accessed, and though no adverse physical or intellectual affects have been reported, subjects given no social instruction or educational play are found more likely to rate their emotional associations with childhood as "negative."_

_..._

_For babies, most pre-drug exposure memories are inaccessible. Though more trials are needed, early studies suggest that any accessible memory comes in the form of name and face recognition. Subjects may more easily grow attached as babies to people with whom they were close prior to drug administration. In a singular case, a nine-month-old subject was able to identify her mother when presented with a line-up of five women, none of whom she had met post-A241 exposure._

_As subjects age, pre-drug memories are gradually accessed in accordance with developmental level. Young children will likely recall their old memories and will be aware of their circumstances but may become frustrated or confused when faced with memories that require abstract thinking. In essence, though an eight-year-old subject may understand that he is, since biological birth, thirty years old, and though he may remember his past life and being administered A241, he may struggle with understanding his reality and may become confused or troubled when explained the biological procession of the drug. As he ages, however, and attains the ability to think more abstractly, he will come to understand the effects of the drug as explained to him before and after the administration. By his teenage years, he will have full memory access and will only be impeded by the impacts of his emotional development. By his early twenties, his brain should be entirely restored to its pre-drug state, and all further development until the drug has run its course will be entirely physical._

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[J]: I'm having a small gathering for Sherlock tonight, 6pm if you 2 can make it. Will have cake and drinks

[L]: Sounds alright, what's the occasion?

[J]: His birthday I suppose

[J]: A bit sentimental but I thought I'd celebrate the 1st

[Mol]: I think that's a lovely idea! I'll be there with bells on!

[Mol]: What about a gift? 

[J]: Mycroft has got us stocked with enough bits and bobs to last a century

[J]: But if you'd like you can bring something small

[Mol]: Perhaps a book? Has he got Peter Rabbit? I just loved that as a child.

[J]: Peter Rabbit would be lovely. We've been reading Pooh and Paddington and he's learnt to say bear

[L]: Cor

[Mol]: Oh John xoxo

* * *

[J]: Hello Mr and Mrs Holmes, we are having a birthday gathering for Sherlock at Baker Street, 6pm

[J]: Would love if you could come

[image sent]

[Mummy]: Those cheeks! We wouldn't miss it, John.

[J]: Can't wait

* * *

[image sent]

[J]: Your small brother would like to cordially invite you to his 1st birthday party, 6pm

[M]: Very well.

[J]: Indeed

* * *

[image sent]

[J]: Hello Mrs Hudson. Will you be home in time for a small gathering for Sherlock, 6pm?

[MH]: Little love wudnt miss it love

[J]: Hope you're ok Mrs Hudson!!

[MH]: FIne mobile gives metroble

[J]: ok!!!

* * *

** Journal, Day 5: **

Observations  
**8:44 AM:** Happy birthday dear Sherlock. I suppose you're nearing 1 year now. The two of us spent the morning so far cuddled with a blanket on the sofa, going through the stack of books Mycroft had delivered. You love all the pictures. I even got you to point at Paddington and say "beh beh beh" and I reckon that's "bear." Not that I need to say and not that you'd ever be surprised, but you're a clever little lad. 

**9:51 AM:** Lestrade, Molly, Mrs Hudson, Mycroft, and your parents are coming round for drinks and cake in honour of your 1st year. I've got a cake ordered with your name on in blue icing and I can't wait for you to try it. Obviously I won't be doing the party lark for every year as that would be exhausting, but I thought your 1st was important. Perhaps there will be another for your 16th and we'll invite loads of local teenagers to help you celebrate. Maybe I'll hire a dj to play the fresh jams. Clearly I'm joking, but wouldn't that be the most awful thing? Aren't you glad I love you?

 **11:02 AM:** A toddler sized greatcoat and scarf was just now delivered to the flat, absolutely Mycroft's doing, and it has got to be the most ridiculous and charming thing I've ever seen. You're swallowed by it now but it should be perfect in a week. This is all so silly and strange and I can't help but be equal parts amused and delighted.

 **2:21 PM:** We popped by the bakery down the street, the one with the fantastic iced buns, and got your cake. The baker tossed in a free cream pastry and I'm giving you bits as I eat. I've got you saying "ummmm" after every taste and your little face registers nothing but pure delight at the sugar. I've got to get this on film, it's quite cute.

 **4:00 PM:** Guess who's standing? This lad. You wobble and you don't last too long unaided but you're 1 step closer to walking. Only a matter of time until you're rushing the flat and getting into everything you can. I'm already run ragged chasing you crawling like a tiny insect at lightning speed. I can't imagine the damage you'll do once you're fully mobile. Were you a hyperactive child? I bet you were a hyperactive child. How could you not have been a hyperactive child?

 **5:34 PM:** Your hair's got much fluffier today. I have you wearing a party hat with a blue pom-pom and bits are sticking up all around it from static. Yes I am fully aware that you'll rage as you read this. Look on the bright side: at least it wasn't the antlers. I nearly bought a pair for babies at the shops.

 **9:15 PM:** What a lovely evening, Sherlock. You were held and kissed and sang to and loved by all those closest to you. You had your cake, which was messy as all hell and will likely keep you awake until doomsday but had you going "ummm" every five seconds as your mum fed you. The sugar likely wasn't the best for you but it was once and it wasn't all that much, and best of all you haven't shit to your armpits. I did ask your mum about that and she told me you always had the oddest nappy problems. Believe when I say that I didn't ask her to elaborate but I've a feeling it involves lots and lots of apocalyptic shit and I've really had enough of that for a lifetime, thanks. After cake we had gifts, and you honestly are such a spoilt little thing. Your dad read some new books to you and Greg carried you around and made you demonic doll laugh. Molly took photos and played our hide the puppy game, and of course Mycroft sat around and looked terribly important save for the twinkle in his eye when you crawled over to him and pulled up on his leg. And then, just as everyone was preparing to leave, you said "mumumumum," pushed away from the couch, and took 2 steps towards her before dropping down on your bottom. Everyone was so very impressed and charmed, Sherlock, so good on you. You did that on purpose, didn't you, you dramatic thing. I bet you were saving up your first steps and first "mum" for just that moment... At any rate, it was a fine evening indeed. I enjoy your parents. They asked me tonight to call them Mum and Dad since "I'm family" and, well, that affected me quite a bit. I love being part of your family and I'm so lucky to have you, whatever the form.

 **10:57 PM:** We practised walking to burn off some energy. You're doing an admirable job I'd say, and I've got you holding my hands and toddling along. You've still not gone more than 2 steps on your own but I reckon by morning you'll be significantly improved. That's the thing with rapid aging. So much of your development happens whilst you're asleep that you can meet major milestones without even learning them properly. And you change so much. Your teeth were amazing, quite literally going from nothing to four nearly fully grown in a span of 10 hours. Suppose that saves us the pains of teething but I do feel like I've missed out. I wonder how you'll feel about it in a few weeks when you're older, falling asleep with missing baby teeth and waking with shiny new permanent teeth. Or when you're even older than that, waking in the morning many centimetres taller. We shall have a very odd six months, Sherlock.

 **12:18 AM:** Finally got you settled after a bath and a warm bottle. We read Peter Rabbit and then I tucked you in. When I kissed your head you said "Jah" just the once and gave me a bop on the cheek. My heart melted just a bit. Sorry for the sop again, but I just wanted to say that I'm having fun despite my initial horror. I've found myself enjoying reading to you and singing to you, being there however I can. I'm looking forward to looking after this you until the real you comes back to me, and I promise I'll take the best care of him I can. I'll be patient and loving and I'll help him to grow up healthy and ridiculously happy because I love you so very much, Sherlock, and that's all I want for you. Happy 1st birthday and happy 37 and ten months. Goodnight.

Stats  
**Weight:** 9.8 kg

 **Height:** 75.6 cm

 **Nappies:** 8 wet, 1 dirty, and frankly I'm waiting on another Shitpocalypse after that cake

 **Food:** You have an incurable sweet tooth already, which I feel is terrible to foster in a baby though I couldn't help it with the cake. Your mum brought some homemade pea puree for you, as apparently you loved it as a baby, so I suppose that's what we'll try tomorrow. 

**Sleep:** With a nearly midnight bedtime I'm hopeful you'll stay asleep until at least 9 in the morning. I'm ragged.

 **Summary:** You're loved, Sherlock Holmes, and don't ever forget that.


	2. Growing Season

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! Thanks again for reading.
> 
> **A/N: Please note that John's inconsistent use of the comma is completely intentional.

**DAY 6**

** From Baskerville File #0184245, Effects of A241 **

_... Important to note regarding A241 exposure is that subjects, though having the appearance of being born anew, are only superficially age-regressed; therefore, as of present, A241 is not a solution for disease or damage to the body or mind. A subject who has undergone limb amputation pre-drug will not generate a new limb in his regressed state. In a similar vein, all pre-drug body marks, such as scars, pocks, and skin damage, will appear in subjects after exposure, though studies have shown that in the majority of cases, marks are less-apparent in the very young and tend to become more prominent as the subject ages._

_..._

_The superficial nature of the effects of this drug explains why subjects who had orthodontic braces as teenagers do not require them again after the shedding of deciduous teeth. Adult teeth will appear exactly as they did for the subject prior to drug exposure sans dental implants, minor tooth damage (cracks or chips), and fillings. Because the health of the teeth appears to be restored by A241, additional research is being conducted into the potential use of this drug in the dental field. A241, however, is unsuccessful in the regeneration of teeth; any adult teeth extracted pre-drug remain absent post-exposure._

_..._

_Due to these effects, minimal intervention is needed as subjects grow, as, barring external factors, they will return to their exact pre-drug selves once A241 has run its course. This does not mean, however, that subjects are invincible during this time. They are still susceptible to bacteria, illness, injury, dental decay, and psychological disorders; therefore, body care is still of utmost importance in maintaining physical, mental, and emotional health._

* * *

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[video sent]

[J]: Any ideas what he's saying

[L]: Ruff? Dog ruff?

[Mol]: Turn off? Second bit is definitely off!

[Mol]: Quite a talker, he is!

[J]: I'm hearing -I golf- but that's obviously wrong

[L]: No idea mate, sorry

[Mol]: Whatever it is, he's very serious about it! 

[J]: Been yelling it all morning

[J]: Whilst biting me every chance he gets I should say

[L]: Good to know age changes nothing!!

[J]: Fair point

* * *

**John Watson Blog**  
**SUBJECT:** Notice

_Due to unforseen circumstances, Sherlock and I will be unable to take on any cases for the next several weeks. Please direct all emergencies to the police. You may of course continue to write or email us but we cannot as of yet estimate a response time._

* * *

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[MS]: Everything alright mate? I caught the blog. Sherlock ok? -Mike

[J]: I see you haven't talked to Molly. Just a small inconvenience involving that dodgy A241 Baskerville drug. Sherlock is fine, just 13 months old

[MS]: Really!

[image sent]

[J]: Swear to god. Will text you next time we're at Barts if you'd like to see him in person

[MS]: Unbelievable

[video sent]

[J]: I've been wiping his arse every few hours so I believe it just fine. Any idea what he's saying

[MS]: "My gosh"?

[J]: Good suggestion but doubtful. Cannot think of a single person who's said that around him and his adult self has always preferred "Oh hell"

[MS]: No baby talk for him, then?

[video sent]

[J]: "Bee buzz buzz"

[MS]: He's almost charming, isn't he?

[J]: I'd say

* * *

[H]: u and sherlock run off and get married johnny

[J]: Something very very different entirely, Harry

[H]: care 2 share

[image sent]

[H]: wtf

[J]: My thoughts exactly

[J]: Drug thing, everybody's ok

[H]: was it laced coke? what the hell does that???

[J]: Not recreational, Christ, just an experimental thing from a lab mixed with general foolishness

[H]: everything's alright then

[J]: Oddly enough, yes

* * *

[video sent]

[J]: Hello Mrs and Mr Holmes

[J]: Mum and Dad, sorry

[J]: Any thoughts about what he's saying

[Mummy]: Hello John.

[Mummy]: Oh dear, that's how he said Mycroft! 

[Mummy]: "I-gah" was his first two syllable word.

[J]: Jesus Christ

[J]: Sorry, I meant to say that I'm surprised is all

[Mummy]: Don't let him fool you. Sherlock was gone on his big brother until Mike went off to school.

[Mummy]: And Mike doesn't know where his heart is half the time, but when he finds it he can be the most loving and gentle of creatures.

[J]: Thank you for this

* * *

[video sent]

[J]: I can't believe I'm typing this, but come and visit your brother please

[M]: Oh dear God.

* * *

** Journal, Day 6: **

Observations  
**9:11 AM:** We had applesauce and eggs for breakfast. You made a bloody mess but I've got you started with using a spoon. Mostly you just drag it about in the food, bang it on your high chair, and then rub it against your face, but I can't fault you because you're trying. Gave you a bit of cow's milk too and you slurped it down like you were dying for it. This should prove an interesting experiment with baby Sherlock's bowels. I was frankly surprised to not find you covered head to toe in shit this morning after last night's cake, but alas and thank Jesus, a wet nappy was all to be found. You were stood in your cot, holding the bars and yelling "Jah! Jah!" and you were honestly just the cutest thing, Sherlock. Your hair has got even fluffier, and you've the subtlest beginning ringlet formation at the back of your head near your nape. You also have a new tooth, your lower left lateral, and your lower right lateral is poking through the gum. I had to give you a bit of a snuggle once I snatched you up, you charmer, and you leaned in and bit my shoulder through my shirt, just got your mouth all wide and bit down as hard as you could, your body shaking with the effort. I don't know if that was meant to be affectionate or if you're genuinely biting me because you're a sneaky little terror, but please stop.

 **10:04 AM:** What a little champ. You're toddling now, moving about unsteadily with shaky legs like a fawn but you are technically walking. I'll buzz about with your plush bee at the coffee table and you'll walk from my chair to me in order to get it. Occasionally you'll fall and then commence crawling but I'm impressed with your balance so far. Also, you're yelling something that sounds like "I golf" and you get frustrated and whiny when I ignore you because I've no clue what you're saying. If I repeat it back you'll say it again, and that starts a circular "I golf" "I golf" that solves exactly nothing and drives me barmy. If I try to redirect you you'll scream this high-pitched scream followed by "IgahIgahIgah." What the hell, Sherlock. I've texted for some opinions but I've got nothing.

 **12:42 PM:** Took you on a stroll for a bit of diversion. I wheeled you down the block in the pushchair and got coffee and a scone at the cafe, and then I took you over to the park to toddle in the grass while I had my coffee. Then you had some pea puree and banana by the duck pond and I swear to God Sherlock, I don't know how parents do the whole baby feeding bit without losing their minds. I had a giant bib on you and readied myself with wipes and yet you somehow got covered in pea. And then you had what parenting blogs refer to as a "blow-out" and what I call a major shitstorm, and I had to take you back to the cafe to use the toilets so I could literally bin your entire outfit and redress you after wiping you down with paper towels. We're back at the flat now and I'm contemplating just giving you a proper bath at mid-day because no matter how well I've wiped you up, you still have a lingering smell. Sherlock, you're going to owe me so much in the worst way once you're back to normal. Believe me when I say that I never thought I'd ever know you the way I do right at this moment.

 **1:57 PM:** More "I golf" after your bath. Frustrating. And to add to that you're a deceptive little thing. I was giving you kisses on the cheek after I'd dressed you and making the "mmmmmwah" noises as I did it to make you laugh. After a few times you started making the noise too, but instead of kissing my cheek you'd take the moment of close proximity to bite the absolute hell out of my face. Now every time I've got you and you start to make the "mmmmmwah" noise I know to back away because those teeth are coming in for a bite. I do wonder if you think you're kissing me because you only do it when I'm being affectionate.

 **2:31 PM:** Well that answers a question, you Mycroft-loving nerd-baby. Igah = Mycroft, per your parents, which is bizarre and adorable and I've got your brother coming over for a visit because you apparently want to see him. Yes, I invited him over and yes, you want to see him. What is wrong with the world today, Sherlock.

 **5:47 PM:** I let your brother have you while I went out for a pint with Lestrade. I'm going to copy down the text messages I received whilst out just to show you what I was dealing with:

M: John, he's crying.  
M: What has upset him, John?  
M: I believe his nappy is wet.  
M: I suppose I've changed him.  
M: He bites, doesn't he?  
M: What does one do with a child, John?  
M: Have you quite finished, yet?

Now ok, I get that he isn't that versed in babies because I'm the same, but the thing is, these texts were sent to me all within the first 10 minutes of my arrival at the pub, so he had minded you for a total of 20 minutes. I told him to hold the hell on and finished my drink, then hauled my arse back to find him sat in my chair scowling at a cup of tea and Mrs Hudson feeding you a biscuit in the kitchen. Your brother is lazy Sherlock, and I told him so. He scoffed and left, but not before placing his palm on your head and holding it for a moment whilst you dribbled all over your biscuit, and he did look so ridiculously fond. He is textbook "I feel but cannot express in public" and though I've known this for ages, I'm taking this incident as the final proof.

 **7:14 PM:** You're getting the hang of a baby beaker. I gave you some diluted apple juice with dinner and you chugged it down, holding the beaker high with both hands and tilting your head back as you drank. When you were finished you slammed it down on your high chair as if it were a shot glass and went "ahhh!"

 **8:57 PM:** You've learnt a few more words today, making your current vocabulary: no, John, bee, buzz, hi, bye, mum, Mycroft, bear, dog, ball, and nose. You've also learnt to clap. I'll clap my hands and say "Yay" and you'll slap your palms together and make an "aaaaaaah" noise. Right now you're sat on the sitting room floor in your little blue pyjamas with feet, rolling a car back and forth. Today I've noticed that independent play suits you fine now, and you'll happily occupy yourself with a toy or with being sneaky and semi-destructive for several minutes at a time without a single whinge. It's freed up a bit of my time and gave me a chance to do some washing up and to do things on the internet other than read parenting websites. I updated my blog today to let everyone know that we won't be taking cases for the next several weeks. I say several weeks. Probably should have said "for the next few months," but who knows what you'll be like when you're 4 or 5. The Baskerville reports say that by the time you're a small child you should have all of your memory back but you won't be able to think abstractly just yet. I suppose that means no elaborate deductions, but you  will be able to observe, won't you? Not that I mean to expose you to anything horrific whilst you're a child, but I do want to make sure you'll be as happy as possible. Will you be out of sorts if you can't work right away? Maybe we can get you blogging again and start you back on the microscope with safe experiments. But who knows, perhaps when you're that age you'll only want to watch Scooby Doo and play games on the iPad.

 **10:01 PM:** You bit my face again when I gave you a goodnight kiss between the eyes as you were beginning to doze. Woke up just long enough to bite me and then settled down again. I do think you mean to kiss, or I have to tell myself this to refrain from getting cross with you, silly thing. You're conked out for good now, and I've tucked you in and shut off the lights in the sitting room. Perhaps I'll do a bit of reading before bed. It has only been 6 days since this version of you came into my life and yet I feel as if I've not had a true moment to myself in ages. You know, I always thought I'd have to deal with this because one day I'd be a dad. At least, I thought this at one point in my life because I assumed, that's what men do, don't they, they grow up and marry a woman and have children. Well you know how my attempt at that went, and I don't wish to drag it all up again. But even at that time when I thought I was to be a father, I didn't feel like one. I wasn't sure if I truly wanted it, I suppose, because it was all so unexpected and so soon, and I'd not known Mary that long, barely long enough to marry her and certainly not long enough to be a parent with her. Turns out I didn't know her at all. And that fucked me up for a while, you know, I don't have to tell you that. Then I was with you, really with you, and I knew it was the most right I'd ever felt, the best I'd ever been, and I suppose I gave up on the thought of being a dad. I don't mean to say that it was because of you and the fact that you're a man, just that once I truly realised that I didn't have to have the wife and house in the suburbs, I also realised that I didn't have to have the children. And now I've got this. And I've not changed my mind, I still don't feel like little Sherlock is my son, really, but what I'm getting from this is that I think I  could be a father one day. I know you'll be horrified when you read this, and I swear I'm not saying I think we should have a child at any point in the future. It's just that I feel as if I could be a dad, that I could be a proper dad and good at it, when a year ago I was sure I couldn't. The thought is freeing for me. Again, don't be horrified. I'm not suggesting or implying anything, and I doubt I'll ever actively want to be a dad in the future. But I'm happy to know that I could and that I'd be good at it, despite my own pitiful history with fathers and despite what I've previously thought about myself. It brings me a bit of peace, I suppose?? Goodnight, Sherlock.

Stats  
**Weight:** 9.9 kg

 **Height:** 76.2 cm

 **Nappies:** 7 wet, 1 dirty, massive, and disturbing -- Sherlock, I'm considering stopping with the dirty nappy recordings. It seemed useful when you were a small baby but now that your poo is, for lack of a better way of putting it, getting to be just like everybody's poo, it's beginning to feel odd counting how many times you do it per day. Perhaps I'll continue to record your wet nappies because I know you're into urine frequencies, but I'll only mention your dirty nappies if there's something out of the ordinary.

 **Food:** I'm still giving you a warm bottle before bed, but you're weaning off of formulae and becoming more dependent upon solid food. I've got you working on feeding yourself, though we will need to practise with getting proficient at spoon use. I'm doing most of the work for now. Also, you're doing B+ work with the baby beaker. Some dribbling and leaking from your mouth as you suck, but still a job well done I say.

 **Sleep:** You're sleeping less during the day. Morning naps are out, but you're still sleeping for around 2 hours in the afternoon. You're down from about 14 total hours to 11.

 **Speech:** Words consist of no, John, bee, buzz, hi, bye, mum, Mycroft, bear, dog, ball, and nose. The only ones that are clear and spot-on are no, bee, hi, and bye. The others are approximate sounds or the words with dropped ending consonants, such as "Jah" rather than "John," "dah" rather than dog, and "nono" for "nose" (whilst holding your nose).

 **Summary:** I'm enjoying you at this age, Sherlock.

* * *

**DAY 7**

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[Mummy]: Hello John. Hope you and our boy are well. I'm writing to ask if you and Sherlock would like to come and stay at our home on the weekend. 

[Mummy]: Dad is having a birthday, and I know that he would love to have his family together again for the occasion.

* * *

** Google Search **

-travelling with a baby  
-travel with baby car or train  
-travel with 15 month old train  
-what to bring travelling baby  
-change nappy on train how to  
-packing for weekend baby  
-baby bites why  
-cotswolds weather current  
-cotswolds weekend weather uk

* * *

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[J]: Yes of course Mum, that would be lovely

[J]: Shall we come tomorrow or Saturday? Anything I should bring?

[Mummy]: Oh no, dear, bring yourself and Himself on Friday. Everything will be prepared for the two of you.

[J]: Well we would be delighted to come if you're sure it won't be an inconvenience 

[Mummy]: Nonsense! We asked you to come, didn't we? Oh I can't wait John.

[J]: We'll look forward to it

[image sent] 

[J]: Here's a grin from Sherlock when I told him we will be seeing mummy and daddy

[Mummy]: Oh Lord, such a darling is my boy!

[J]: That he is, actually

* * *

[J]: Could you get Sherlock and I a car for tomorrow, around 1pm

[M]: No need. My car will be round at 2pm, and we'll ride to Mummy's together.

[J]: Oh

[J]: Well alright then, thanks, 2pm

* * *

** Google Search **

-driving time london to oxfordshire  
-uk baby clothes stylish  
-london oxfam donate used baby clothing how  
-baby tooth order  
-baby clothing size average uk 2 years  
-uk baby clothing

* * *

** Internet Purchases **

1 Cream Cable-Knit Crew Jumper, 12-18 months -- £14  
1 Red Stag Fairisle Pattern Jumper, 12-18 months -- £13  
1 Teal Cowl-Neck Jumper, 1.5-2 years -- £12  
1 Charcoal Button High-Neck Jumper, 1.5-2 years -- £15  
1 Navy, Grey Neppy, Black Textured Joggers 3-Pack, 12-18 months -- £18  
1 Midwash Pull-On Jeans, 12-18 months -- £13  
1 Darkwash Pull-On Jeans, 1.5-2 years -- £14  
1 Multi Dinosaur and Stripe Pyjamas 3-Pack, 1.5-2 years -- £24  
1 Green Dino Slippers, 4 -- £10

One-Day Shipping: £27  
Total: £160  
_Debited to SHERLOCK HOLMES_

* * *

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[J]: Care to try for that pint again, sorry about yesterday

[J]: Mrs Hudson has volunteered to mind Sherlock

[L]: 6:00?

[J]: See you then

* * *

** Journal, Day 7: **

Observations  
**8:42 AM:** Sherlock Holmes, I adore you and you are a lovely boy but I've got the perfect impression of 8 teeth on my arm like a shark bite, you naughty little thing. When will the biting stop? I've got to speak to your mother about this. And in less disturbing news, you've learnt to brush a comb through your hair and I can give you your toothbrush and you'll run it across your teeth. Obviously none of this is in an effective manner yet, but it's sweet. You watched me shave this morning and I caught your little fingers crawling towards my razor. I gave you a bit of shaving foam on your hand to distract you and you rubbed it on your face.

 **11:06 AM:** Your mother just texted and invited us to Oxfordshire for your dad's birthday. Suppose we'll be going but I must admit that I'm feeling somewhat awkward about it. I love your mum and dad, don't get me wrong Sherlock, but I'm not sure what I'm to do with myself for the entire weekend since you're such a little lad and Mycroft and I will be the only adult visitors. Christ, Mycroft. I just texted him requesting a car and he said we'd drive there together. That's over 2 hours with no one but your brother for conversation. Kill me.

 **12:31 PM:** You're a fantastic walker now, just toddling about without a care. I've got you in a pair of little brown oxfords and I'm having a laugh because I know they're something adult you would never wear. In fact, though Mycroft has sent along the majority of your clothing from God knows what posh hell (it's great quality and smart so I'll not complain), I've picked up an outfit here and there and I've found myself dressing you according to my tastes rather than yours. Suppose I better do all of this before you're old enough to realise. You do look dapper. Got you some jumpers and jeans and am taking loads of photographs of you in your tiny outfits with your floofy, burgeoning curls. I considered buying you a deerstalker the other day but I figured that was too cruel, though you would look spectacularly charming.

 **3:14 PM:** We popped by Bart's for a mo to see Molly and to have some lunch with Mike Stamford because he wanted to see you. Once we were in the lab, Molly started playing with you, and you really took to her for once, allowing her to hold you and walk you around, showing you equipment and all the glass beakers, and I even let her walk you through the morgue, though actually seeing the dead bodies was right out. I felt you knew where you were, if not exactly then you knew that your location was a place where you felt at home. You were buzzing with energy and those blue eyes were on everything, taking it all in as if it were the most beautiful of sunsets. Once back in the lab, Molly stood you on one of the empty tables. At that moment her mobile ringtone went off and it was that Justin Timberlake song, that "sunshine in my pocket" bit (not that you know what that is, I barely know what that is). In a second flat you were doing the silliest, jerkiest dance to it, just kind of bending your knees and bouncing the slightest bit, shaking your little bum. It was impossibly cute and you had the three of us in stitches. 

**4:25 PM:** Update: You are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only 17 (months old). The two of us just had a bit of a dance around the flat to "Come And Get Your Love" and "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" and I may or may not have got it filmed and will be showing it to your mum and dad tomorrow.

 **7:59 PM:** Thank you for being good for Mrs Hudson. She offered to mind you whilst I grabbed a pint with Lestrade and I'm delighted to tell you that according to her you were "a little dear". The two of you read books and watched the news and I suspect she fed you biscuits because you had a bit of chocolate on your chin. When I arrived home you were trying very seriously to climb up on your chair by the fireplace and Mrs Hudson was taking photographs of you with her mobile... only she had the front facing camera on and was actually taking her own picture over and over again. Once you realised I was there, you called "John!" and toddled over to me, then raised your arms to be picked up, you charmer. I gave you kisses for finally using the "n" in my name and you just giggled and didn't bite me. I've got you in the bath now and I'm writing this as you fill and pour out a cup over and over. Your hair is wet and pushed back and you've got a dab of bubbles on your chin. You've got a lot older today, it seems, and in the best of ways. Baby you was charming but I think I like toddler you the best so far, with your dancing and giggling and exploring. I'm pleased to say that you're an undeniably happy child, Sherlock Holmes, and all your friends and family are glad we have you.

 **9:35 PM:** I was having some ice cream whilst watching telly, and you toddled over to me, stopped right by my knee, said "pweeze" in your baby voice, and opened your mouth for a bite. Cor! I just had to give you a small spoonful. I think you weren't expecting it to be cold because you jumped back the moment it touched your tongue and I thought you'd cry. But then you just swallowed, tapped me on the leg, said "pweeze" again, and opened your mouth once more. You said PWEEZE, Sherlock. I'm never letting you live this down.

 **10:26 PM:** Read "Goodnight Moon" to you before bed and at the end, you tapped the picture and said "ni-ni moo." I said "Night-night, Sherlock," and you repeated "ni-ni shah." So the phrase thing is new. Now that you're starting with that I'm expecting you to become a lot more contrary, as up to now you've been quite sweet and I suspect it won't last. But I think we both know that even contrary Sherlock can be sweet when he wants to be. Suppose I should get to bed myself since tomorrow will be quite busy. Goodnight, love. See you in the morning. 

Stats  
**Weight:** 10.7 kg

 **Height:** 80.2 cm

 **Nappies:** 6 wet -- This is the fewest wet nappies you've had over a 24 hour period so far. You've certainly had enough to drink and the urine colour is light so I suppose it's because your bladder has got larger.

 **Food:** You're now perfect with the baby beaker and enjoying your cow's milk and diluted juice. You're also getting better at feeding yourself both with your fingers and the spoon. I gave you some baby snacks on the tray of your high chair and you were pinching them and putting them in your mouth like a pro, and at breakfast I gave you a bit of applesauce in a bowl and you did a fine job getting some of it from your bowl to your mouth with the spoon. Clearly you can still use some practise but at least you're no longer simply rubbing your spoon across your mouth.

 **Sleep:** You're still a fantastic sleeper, about 9 hours at night and 2 or 3 during the day. You've had an active day today so you should sleep well tonight.

 **Speech:** Words added to your vocabulary today are eye, PWEEZE, moon, goodnight, and eat. Additionally you can now say my name perfectly, as "John" rather than "Jah." Good on you, little fellow.

 **Summary:** You're growing more and more active and though that part of it is wearing me out, I'm enjoying some of the freedom that comes with the independence that you're beginning to gain. It's lovely being able to sit down and read the paper whilst you play with blocks on the floor. I'm excited to see what you'll be like tomorrow.

* * *

**DAY 8**

** From Baskerville File #0184245, Effects of A241 **

_As subjects grow older, reaching an age in which memory formation is steady, they will gradually begin to recall past memories. Studies have shown that for most subjects, this initial recollection comes in the form of facial and location recognition. Though some manner of facial recognition is present even shortly after drug administration, it will become much stronger once subjects become toddlers. At this time, a subject may immediately recognize a person she has not yet met post-drug and may even be able to place a name to that face. In addition, it has been observed that subjects, when placed in environments they knew well in their past, such as childhood homes and places of work, show keen awareness and understanding of their surroundings and may even seek out objects and locations they frequented pre-exposure. During these moments, it is of utmost importance for subjects to be minded, as they may unknowingly expose themselves to dangerous situations involving objects such as ovens, bathtubs, and machinery._

* * *

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[video sent]

[J]: Hello Molly, here is Sherlock's newest word

[Mol]: OMG! [heart eyes emoji] Is that what I think it is?

[J]: If you're thinking something entirely disturbing then yes

[Mol]: Could be worse, John.

[J]: Yes he could have the word dead before it

[J]: Or decomposing when he's up for a challenge

[J]: I'm waiting on that

[Mol]: How is the dancing coming along?

[video sent]

[J]: Liquid hips

[Mol]: OMG!! xoxoxo

[Mol]: Look at him go. Will you show these to him once he's back to normal?

[J]: What do you think

* * *

[video sent]

[J]: What do you think Greg, is he ready to solve a crime?

[L]: Is he saying "body"???

[J]: Are you surprised

[L]: Have you been sneaking him into the morgue

[J]: Actually no, keeping him away from the corpses in fact. He learnt this all on his own

[L]: Think he'll be deducing nxt week?

[J]: Possibly. I'm giving him to you to finish raising the moment he criticises the way I wipe his bum

[L]: He is a cute fellow John, but I just can't bring myself to do anything involving changing his nappies

[J]: Funny

[J]: And here I am at this moment on the sofa whilst the baby version of my life partner farts on my lap as a prelude to worse

[L]: Cor!!

[J]: Yeah, got to deal with this. Perhaps will try taking him to the toilet. Bye Greg

[L]: Good luck

* * *

[J]: Hello Mum, when did Sherlock toilet train?

[Mummy]: Sherlock was a funny one, John. 

[J]: What does that mean

[Mummy]: We tried to train him at 18 months but he wouldn't go in the toilet. He would be sat on his training potty for ages staring at us, but the moment we put him back in his nappy he would go. We didn't have him proper trained until he was nearly 2 and a half because he was just so contrary and refused.

[J]: That explains it then, thanks. Just had him on the toilet for nearly 20 minutes with no result. I gave in and put his nappy on him and he literally went as I was carrying him out of the bathroom

[Mummy]: Oh dear.

[J]: Perhaps he will be better this time round though, I will keep trying

[J]: Thanks again, will see you this evening. Mycroft and his car will be here at 2pm

[Mummy]: xxx

* * *

** Journal, Day 8: **

Observations  
**7:52 AM:** This morning I woke to find you attempting a jailbreak. You were leant over the rail of your cot and approximately ten seconds away from flipping out onto the floor. You were very cross with me when I snatched you up and were babbling nonsense words with an angry face. Though trying to be tough, you were very small and sweet, and I just put you in the bed with me and we had a snuggle and read Curious George. You've learnt "monkey" and were saying "kee kee kee" every time I'd turn a page. Right now you're having breakfast and are doing an admirable job of feeding yourself porridge and blueberries. Obviously I've got you bibbed up, but to my utter delight, you've not got yourself covered in food. I may need to pin your hair back somehow though as it's beginning to flop forwards into your face and is running the risk of getting food in it. It somehow grew a tremendous amount overnight, as yesterday it was just floofy with the littlest bit of bounce at your nape. You've got proper curls now, light brown ringlets that are even lighter in the sun, and though they aren't yet wildly curly I can tell they will be at that point in the next few days. 

**9:14 AM:** Well, today took a disturbing turn. You were toddling around the sitting room carrying your plush bee when suddenly, out of nowhere, you slammed it down on the coffee table and said "body!" Now I can't stop you from saying it, it's "body" this and "body" that. Sherlock this has got to be some memory coming back as I don't think I've once said the word to you unless I was giving you a wash and said "I've got to clean your body." Only I can't even remember saying that. I've purposely kept you away from bodies at the morgue and I doubt you've picked it up from the telly. Suppose I should be happy you aren't saying "dead body" but I have to admit, for the sake of propriety whilst in public, I'd be happier if the small child in my care wasn't yelling about bodies at all.

 **11:17 AM:** You're going to be a pain in my arse at toilet training, aren't you Sherlock? I thought I'd try today as the baby books say some children are ready to be trained at 18 months and I reckon you're around that age, if not older. So I've watched for signs all morning and when I had one, I took you to the toilet and held you on there. You just sat and looked around and we talked some, me asking you questions and you answering with mostly babbles but some actual words. After several minutes I realised you weren't going to go so I put your nappy back on and tugged on your trousers, and I was carrying you on my hip out the bathroom door when you suddenly went all red and proceeded to go. So that was fantastic, thank you. I've tried twice more and have even got out the training potty Mrs Hudson bought the other day, but you refuse to use it. You're sat there now, bottomless, playing with my mobile. It's moments like this that I pray a client who hasn't seen my note on the blog doesn't drop in unexpectedly. Wouldn't that be a sight to behold, Sherlock Holmes sat on a potty in the centre of the sitting room, clicking around on a mobile phone. I'm sure the papers would love that.

 **1:38 PM:** Mycroft should be here soon. I've got us all packed for 2 days and it absolutely looks as if I've packed for a month abroad. I assume your parents will have things prepared for you but I still felt the need to pack loads of your favourite toys, clothing for every type of weather, nappies, training pants in case you decide to remember how to use the toilet whilst away, baby snacks, toiletries, your bee blanket, a training seat that snaps to the regular toilet, food, feeding supplies, juice, books, and your tiny greatcoat that finally fits you. Here's hoping Mycroft packed light and has room in his car.

 **2:39 PM:** I don't know what's weirder, that Mycroft is driving us himself or that he has Christmas music playing on the radio.

 **2:47 PM:** Obviously I can't write much or Mycroft will know what I'm doing. What am I saying. He already knows what I'm doing. At any rate, this is bizarre and awkward as hell. We're CHATTING, Sherlock. Chatting.

 **4:01 PM:** We're stopped whilst Mycroft makes a phone call. I gave you a nappy change and a snack and talked at you about how awkward this whole scenario is. You only babbled back, but somewhere in there was "Mycroft," "John," and "no," so I feel you're understanding me and attempting to communicate back something quite intelligent but babyfied. It would be hilarious (to me at least) if you were 100 per cent memory-wise but unable to communicate in anything but baby. The frustration you must experience. A great, pompous speech resulting in "ba da ba da John no Mycroft ba." Christ. Now I've made myself laugh and Mycroft is watching.

 **5:49 PM:** We've arrived in Oxfordshire. Your mum gave us loads of hugs and you positively squealed when she kissed you. She's so gone on you Sherlock, and it's lovely. Obviously she would be, I suppose, since you're her's and she's loved you like this before, but this version of you brings light to her entire face and once she's got you in her arms, she's a young mum again, swinging you around and singing to you and calling you her boy. How odd this must be for her, to have the baby you raised back again but to not be raising him this time. She's placed us in your childhood bedroom and has got your old cot set up in the corner. She went on about how she would have "never converted the nursery into the computer room if [she'd] known [her] baby boy would be back again." I'll omit the part of the conversation in which she talked about how she'd left it open for years and years until she came to the false realisation that her boys were "as romantic as doorknobs" and refused to give her grandchildren. She gave me a hug after that and thanked me for loving you and I told her the honest to God truth: it's the easiest damned thing in the world.

 **6:31 PM:** Some observations on your bedroom after ~~snooping~~ exploring a bit whilst you nap: 1) You were and are a gigantic, beautiful nerd. Your pinboards are ridiculous as are your leaf collection and categorised fabric samples, which you've displayed proudly. They're perfect. 2) Your wardrobe is still full of old clothing and though I know it must be yours, part of me can't believe it. You've got BAND T-SHIRTS, Sherlock. Loads of them. Is that all you wore as a teenager? Were you that kind of kid? Also of note is that these tops all feature gay, bisexual, or rumoured gay or bisexual rock artists of the 70s and 80s. What a very obvious and endearing trend. Shall I nick a few for your repeat trip through the teenage years? The Velvet Underground one is a favourite. I've already put it in my bag. 3) I love that you've got glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, Sherlock. I had the same when I was a kid. 4) There are military magazines in your bedside table??? Why??? 5) Nevermind. Got it. Wow. 6) Would it be weird of me to nick one of those too? Obviously not to give to you when you're a teenager but to put away until you're back to normal?? Perhaps we can look at it, uh, together. Perhaps you can look at it whilst I watch you look at it. 7) Why've you got a military kink and not told me? Wasted opportunities, I say!!! 8) Not that I checked but your bedside table drawer has a false bottom and I found some very sneaky things in there, Mr Holmes. 9) Did you forget this stuff was here? You must have. I can't believe you'd have left it if you'd known. Don't worry, I actually didn't read the journal, just glanced at the date and flipped through the pages before feeling guilty. I've put it in my bag along with the other items I've nicked, but I won't read it until you're old enough to give me permission. If you never give me permission, that's fine, I'll respect it. Everybody deserves their own private thoughts and secrets. Who knows, maybe this is a journal about soil samples, but the fact that it was hidden away so carefully tells me perhaps it's something more. All I saw was that the beginning date was 1992, so you'd have been 14 when you started it. Were you 14 when you collected the rest of the interesting items in that hiding spot? Shall I expect a 14 year old you to steal from my medicine cabinet? Perhaps nick a box from Boots? I'm sorry, I'm having a bit of fun, it's just that I know you weren't sexually active at 14 and the fact that you had 9 flavoured condoms that expired in the 90s is hilarious to me. 10) Who the hell buys flavoured condoms?? Those are the awful ones that always come in the dispensers in bathrooms. Oh my God, that's where you got these, isn't it? Were you one of the kids who sneakily bought a condom from the dispenser just to say you had one? 11) I like you.

 **8:05 PM:** Your mum made a fantastic roast dinner and your dad baked a cherry crumble to die for. You sat in your highchair and ate your fill of mash with gravy and a Yorkshire pudding, and I thought you'd explode but you still ate a bit of cherry crumble and got it all over your face. Afterwards, you looked like a cat that got the cream. Your mum has got you in the bath now, which is giving me a chance to relax. I'm sat on the sofa watching game shows with your dad and Mycroft is off somewhere in another room being important on his mobile. Your dad's a quiet one, Sherlock. It's lovely. We've talked a bit about work and I've asked him about his hobbies, but mostly we've just sat in silence. I'm enjoying it immensely and am feeling warm and sluggish with a full belly. Perhaps it'll be an early night.

 **10:16 PM:** I've got you in bed and I'm in bed myself, writing this by the light of your bedside lamp. Your stars are glowing above. For some reason I'm missing you terribly right now. I suppose it's because of where I am, as I'm, in a way, inside your life, surrounded by your family, your things, memories of who you were and are. I want to hold adult you, my version of you, right here under the covers, kiss you until we're breathless, love you in every possible way, physical and emotional, until we're exhausted. I've looked through all the photographs of us on my phone, photographs from cases, from that time we holidayed in France, the ones I have of us being affectionate, that I've not deleted though I said I would, that I probably SHOULD have deleted, especially now that I've a toddler who can easily accidentally text them to my entire address book. I long for you Sherlock, in a way I haven't in a while because, thank God, I've not had to. 

Stats  
**Weight:** 11.2 kg

 **Height:** 78.4 cm

 **Physical Appearance:** Floppy light brown hair, loosely curly. Eyes getting lighter blue every day. You're beginning to grow a bit leaner as you get your child's body, losing the rolls and gaining cute miniature versions of real human legs and arms. You've still got a chubby baby belly though, and we're all quite fond of it.

 **Nappies:** 6 wet

 **Food:** You've made leaps and bounds with your food skill, Sherlock. You're much better today with feeding yourself. Also, this is the first day you haven't had a bottle. I must say that I won't miss mixing the formulae but I will miss the feedings. We developed a nice routine over those 7 days, me wrapping you up in a blanket and giving you a good cuddle as you drank. I feel like I've lost something now that you're officially a food-eating toddler.

 **Sleep:** No new developments other than the fact that you nearly broke out of your cot this morning. The one here at your parents' house has much higher rails so I'm hoping it'll keep you in. Suppose once we're back in London I'll see about getting you a toddler bed, perhaps one that converts to a child's bed so we can get more than 2 weeks of use out of it.

 **Speech:** Improving every day. You're able to string a few words together into some semblance of a sentence. Today you said "Eat pweeze" when I got you in your highchair for dinner, and you've been saying, "No Mum, ok?" or "No, no John pweeze, ok?" I must commend you on your charming politeness but I would gently encourage you to begin using "no" only in situations in which the other person is not trying to keep you alive, safe, and/or healthy. I was trying to wrangle you, you wiggly thing, into a fresh nappy and you said, so serious, "No pweeze, John," as if I was going to let you go bare-bummed to dinner.

 **Summary:** What a growing boy you are. You're turning into a child, Sherlock. It's amazing.

* * *

**DAY 9**

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[image sent]

[J]: He's looks like a child now. Knows more words than practical to list, can produce some sentences, and can do a bit of running now though it looks quite silly

[Mol]: Look at him!! Oh! [pink hearts emoji] 

[L]: God John, he looks like Sherlock now, doesn't he

[J]: Yes, less like a chubby munchkin

[L]: That light hair though

[J]: According to his mum both he and Mycroft were light brunets as babies and their hair just grew darker as they aged

[Mol]: Sweet. [heart eyes emoji] Give him a kiss for us, John.

[J]: Will do, he's actually learnt to kiss without biting

[Mol]: Good for him xoxo

* * *

[video sent]

[J]: Hello Mrs Hudson, here is a message from Sherlock

[J]: "Hudson, love you" he says

[MH]: oh jOhn what a dear

* * *

** Journal, Day 9: **

Observations  
**5:47 AM:** Woke to you squawking because you'd got your legs stuck in the bars of your cot as you tried to escape. Thanks for that. Your dad is up already so I gave you to him so I could get another hour of sleep.

 **7:26 AM:** It's lovely having someone around to mind you so that I can take a proper shower in which I'm not constantly listening to make sure you haven't got yourself killed in the 5 minutes I've left you unattended. I actually had time to condition my hair and to relax and...to do other things. Yes, I'm slightly horrified that I did that at your parents' house, but it was quite literally the first time I've done it in 9 days and it was less of a pleasure and more of a necessity. 

**10:41 AM:** Breakfast was wonderful. Your mum made eggy bread and sausage and we had it with tea (milk for you) by the window with the warm sun streaming in. After, your dad took us for a morning walk, and rather than riding in a pushchair, you toddled along with us. I got a photograph of you walking between your parents, each holding one of your hands. At one point, I had one of your hands and you said "I-cwoff" (your new version of "Mycroft") and held out your other for him to take. He grimaced, but not, I think, because he was to hold your hand but because people would actually see him do it, and took it. We walked for a bit and then gave you a little swing. You squealed and squealed. The first swing was a mistake, however, because thereafter, every few minutes you would pick up both feet and try to hang there, and we'd end up dragging you along. Ultimately, the walk ended with you crying because you wanted to swing more and me trying to soothe you by saying that we couldn't because we didn't want to accidentally pull your arms from their sockets. Lovely talk for a morning.

 **1:16 PM:** You've learnt "love you." I was organising some leftovers from last night on your highchair for you to eat for lunch, and you just looked up at me and smiled. I told you I loved you after my heart was overrun with affection, and you said "John love you." I then gave you a kiss on the nose and directly following, you opened your mouth, went "maah," and took my entire nose into your mouth for what I can only assume was supposed to be a kiss. I was smelling baby saliva for an hour but at least there were no teeth!

 **3:57 PM:** We're going to drive into Oxford soon. Today is your dad's birthday, and we've dinner reservations at a French restaurant in town. Your parents promised to give me a walking tour beforehand. I've only been to Oxford a few times in my life and never for any extended period, but I suppose you know it as well as London, having grown up nearby and attended university here. I'd like to return once you're back to normal. Perhaps you can show me more of your life before I met you. I'd take you to Chelmsford, but aside from a few good memories, I don't tend to look back on my life there as remotely pleasant.

 **6:08 PM:** You yelled "Ock!" and pointed as we passed by the university. You know it, don't you? You're nearing 2 years old now, so I reckon you must be gaining memory quickly. I considered asking you what you studied at university, just to see what you would say, but there were other people around and I thought it'd look a bit barmy. Perhaps I'll ask you at dinner.

 **9:26 PM:** We're driving back from dinner now. A fantastic time was had by all. Your dad loved the bowties "we" got him and I believe you and I have had enough food and cake to last a lifetime. I also perhaps went a bit too far with the wine, but I'm not driving and it's simply left me sluggish and a bit giggly. At dinner you were the most ridiculous child, Sherlock. You know I don't speak French, ok, and as I was ordering I pronounced "boeuf" like "bofe," hard O. And you, the curly-headed cherub child scribbling with a crayon, CORRECTED ME without even looking up. "Buff!" you said. Everyone immediately looked at you including the waiter and you simply kept on scribbling as if nothing had happened. Now I'm going to be more self-conscious around you Sherlock because I think your brain is filling up with memories. Will you criticise my singing now? Blow raspberries when I dance? Obviously I'm mostly joking about this but it will be strange once you become more and more cognisant. I've got used to being quite free and open with this version of Sherlock, being sillier around him than I normally would in public because he's just a baby and doesn't know that I'm sort of embarrassing myself. It's like when you're home alone and dance in the kitchen whilst waiting on the kettle to boil. I did that with little Sherlock there because he didn't know better, but obviously I don't do that in front of the real you. I suppose I could, you know, but it's embarrassing when not in the context of us being silly or flirty together. So I suppose this changes things. Bah, drinking makes me maudlin and weird, sorry.

 **10:35 PM:** Just for old time's sake I've gave you your bath and wrapped you up in your bee blanket for a snuggle. No bottle this time but you've got your dummy, which you're happily sucking away at as your eyes get heavy. I think if you were all back memory-wise you wouldn't want your dummy. For that matter you also wouldn't be weeing in your nappy. I don't know how this works Sherlock. I wish I could ask you what you remember but when I try, you don't answer, or if you do, it's mostly babbling or random strings of words. Perhaps it's coming back in snatches, a random French pronunciation here, a school name there, a keen understanding that in the cupboard beneath the bathroom sink is a bottle of bubble bath that I didn't even know of... About that last bit, I was undressing you for your bath and you yelled "'top" (stop, I suppose) and wriggled away, going immediately for the cupboard to get the bubble bath so I could put it in the water for you. That had to be a memory. Last night your mum bathed you in her own bathroom so I know you've not seen inside the cupboard of this one since we've been here. At any rate, this whole memory thing is interesting. Perhaps I'll ask Mycroft for more information tomorrow.

 **11:21 PM:** After I put you to bed, I decided to do some reading in a book I found on your shelf. The title looked interesting, so I sat down on the bed, got comfortable, and opened it up...only to find that you'd apparently glued the cover of a mystery book to the front of a pornographic novel. Sherlock this is BAD. Not bad as in naughty, though it is that, but bad as in embarrassingly terrible porn. I'm laughing so hard I've had to stifle myself with the pillow. Is this what used to get you off??? I'm sorry, when I was a teenager I could get off to an underwear catalogue, but this is just about the worst writing I've ever read and I think even my 15 year old self would have difficulty managing more than low-level arousal at this. Sorry. I love you, I do.

 **11:32 PM:** Jesus Christ, your mum just popped by on her way to the kitchen, knocked, and once she realised I was laughing and not choking to death she asked me if I'd found your "curious books." Sherlock!!! This is horrifying. She said they've become a bit of an in-joke in the home. Are you aware of this??? Are you aware that your lovely mum and dad have opened the pages of a book on your shelf to read the words "his meat sword pierced Lucien's dripping love cave" and "his throbbing channel drank its fill of Samuel's bollocks-juice"????? You MUST be aware. What the hell, Sherlock.

 **12:46 AM:** I couldn't sleep so I decided to look through your entire book collection. Out of 41 books on your shelf: 7 of them are re-bound awful gay pornography; 5 of them are hollowed out secret storage books in which I found 2 rolled cigarettes, a rusted key, and some sort of blue gem; 12 of them are in French; 3 of them are in Portuguese, and 14 are a mixture of mystery novels with critical annotations in red pen and books on botany, anthropology, apiology, and entomology. I've nicked one of your actual mystery novels and will be reading until I fall asleep. Your annotations amuse me and make me miss you all the more.

Stats  
**Weight:** 11.8 kg

 **Height:** 83.8 cm

 **Nappies:** 5 wet

 **Food:** You're beginning to show more of a preference for certain foods. At dinner you absolutely refused to eat even a small bit of carrot but you tucked right into your potatoes.

 **Sleep:** Once more, you've attempted to break out of your cot. This morning you also woke much earlier than usual. Sherlock, I hope this doesn't become a trend as you get older. I'm taking a few morning hours at the surgery beginning Monday and my existence will depend on at least 7 hours of sleep.

 **Speech:** Your vocabulary grows larger and larger every day and it's to the point that I can't list all the words you know. You're also getting better at forming sentences. We do need to work on our pronunciation, however.

 **Memory:** You're clearly recalling bits and pieces, but I'm not sure as of yet whether you have a conscious memory, as in you remember things and understand in your mind that they're memories from the past rather than you having just a sudden recognition of a place, face, or word. I've read all the Baskerville files and I believe they would suggest the latter, but I'm not sure. Who knows with you, Sherlock.

 **Summary:** It has been a day. I've learnt a lot about you and I've had quite a laugh indeed, not the least bit impeded by my glasses of wine at dinner. Suppose I'll start on this book now. Goodnight.

* * *

**DAY 10**

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[Mol]: Happy birthday, Sherlock! [pink hearts emoji] Love, Molly xoxo

[video sent]

[J]: "Thank you Molly"

[Mol]: OMG

* * *

[L]: Tell the little lad happy birthday from Greg and NSY

[video sent]

[J]: "Thank you Lestrade birthday birthday Sherlock"

[L]: Cor

* * *

[MH]: hAPpy birthHAY lamb

[video sent]

[J]: "Thank you Hudson, love"

[MH]: john xxx

* * *

** Journal, Day 10: **

Observations  
**7:45 AM:** Happy 2nd birthday, little bub. 

**9:24 AM:** For breakfast your mum made you eggy bread with a candle and we sang for you and had a small celebration. After we sang, you banged on your highchair with your spoon and yelled "Busday Shock!" which I'm assuming means "Birthday Sherlock" and you sent us into stitches, which made you laugh this high-pitched giggle that is just about the most hilarious thing I've ever heard come out of you. I hope this new laugh sticks around for a while because it's quite charming.

 **10:51 AM:** We're driving back home with Mycroft at noon, so I'm currently packing up our things whilst you spend some more time with your parents. Last I saw you were sat in your dad's lap listening him to him read the paper to you. It seems I'm leaving with more than I brought, which I suppose is true. I've got those few things I nicked the other day, plus a tin of biscuits your mum baked this morning and a gift I picked up for Mrs Hudson. I'll need to get all the gifts in where I can as she'll be minding you from 8 until noon every weekday beginning tomorrow. I hope you'll behave for her, Sherlock. All you'll need to do is watch daytime telly and eat her biscuits and perhaps give her a kiss every now and then.

 **11:44 AM:** I'll miss being here, surrounded by your family and your things, your old life. It is, however, causing me to miss you terribly, though I know returning to our bed on Baker Street won't make me miss you any less. The car is packed and we're ready to go. Your mum has got you cuddled to her so tightly and she's pressed lipstick marks all over your face. I believe I've talked your parents into visiting once a week, and I even offered them lodging if they'd like to stay the night, but I know they'll miss you. It seems to me that it must feel genuine, as if their toddler is leaving them and not their adult son who happens to be a toddler for the time being. Your mum has tears in her eyes as she tells you goodbye.

 **1:38 PM:** I must say that the drive back home is somehow less awkward than the first. I suppose it's because I've just spent an entire weekend with your brother. Not that it made us closer, certainly not, I shudder at the thought, but it's as if I'm more comfortable in his presence and not in an ironic way. He was very reserved the entire weekend, not that I'm surprised. He went on walks with us and travelled to Oxford, had dinner and breakfast alongside us, but though he spoke with me and he spoke with his parents and he interacted with you in some form or fashion, I don't feel as if I know him any more than I did this time Friday. He must be a real man, you know. I mean obviously he is, but what I mean to say is that he's got that same shell you once had but his hasn't cracked much for me. Occasionally I'll see a sliver of the man he is, especially when he's worried about you or showing the affection I know he has for his baby brother, but I still know so very little of him. Besides starting wars and looking important, what are his hobbies? What does he watch on telly? Has he ever had a girlfriend or boyfriend? What makes him laugh? Do you know these things, Sherlock? I'm literally sitting right behind him in the car so I suppose I could ask him, but that would be too easy wouldn't it?

 **2:09 PM:** Obviously I didn't ask him any of those questions, but I did ask him about A241 and memory. He told me that you're likely beginning to remember bits and pieces of your life but your brain, still in its developmental stages, cannot process it as true memory but rather quickly learnt knowledge. In other words, the "you" I know isn't in there just yet, as in you aren't fully aware that you are a 37-year-old man in a baby's body, but the little you is beginning to know and be aware of the things that You knew and were aware of. I suppose this makes the most sense and explains why you just now pressed some buttons on my phone and said "bog," meaning you wanted me to pull up my blog. You didn't know how to bring it up, you just knew that it existed and wanted to see it.

 **3:19 PM:** We're back home. You're passed out on the bed with your thumb in your mouth, which is new and adorable and I just may have got about 10 photos of it on my phone. Mrs Hudson is a saint and is helping me unpack and store your things. You've completely outgrown all of your clothes save for what I bought you before we left for your parents' house. Mrs Hudson was right amazed at you, and I suppose she was correct in that amazement because you've quite literally aged about 6 months since Friday morning. You're a proper little boy now. I reckon I'll need to get you some proper little boy clothes at the shops if Mycroft doesn't send more things along. All your old clothing is going to Oxfam. I've got a box already prepared. I've also got to get that new bed as soon as possible, as you'll have outgrown your cot by Tuesday. 

**5:12 PM:** I'm hoping Mycroft simply reads minds and doesn't have a camera trained on my journal every time I've got it opened (which wouldn't surprise me in the slightest). Barely an hour after I wrote the previous entry several of his men showed up with boxes of clothing from Harrod's containing sizes that will keep you clothed for the next fortnight, plus a toddler bed that converts to a child's bed, which should last for the next couple months. I have to say that I'm thankful for all of this, and don't get me wrong, most of the outfits are very nice and even quite practical for a small child, but I'm fairly certain that the tiny black cable-knit jumper I just placed in your wardrobe costs more than everything on my entire body, jumper, jeans, underwear, shoes, socks, watch, and all.

 **7:01 PM:** I've got you playing hide and seek after dinner. It's quite cute, you running around and trying to find me. You haven't caught on to the hiding part yourself yet, but I'm having the most brilliant time standing in the bath right now with the curtain pulled, listening to your feet tap tap tap as you run and hearing you open cupboards and even drawers looking for me. 

**7:14 PM:** You ran around for the longest time. I eventually gave in because I felt sorry for you so when you toddled into the bathroom I "accidentally" moved the curtain a bit. You yelled "John!" and tapped at the curtain. When I poked my head out, you lost your breath with laughter, so much so that I had to pick you up because it seemed you would fall over. Afterwards, you said in few but surprisingly intelligible words that you wanted to hide in the bath too, so I put you in there and closed the curtain, and now I'm "seeking" you. I know this makes no sense but you're having the time of your life. I just walked into the bathroom, said "I wonder where Sherlock is..." and you started laughing that high-pitched laugh again when I said "Not in here" and walked back out.

 **9:27 PM:** I cannot fathom why Mycroft would've thought you'd need a robe at the age of 2 but it's terribly cute. You've just come from the bath and your curls are damp and swept back on your head and I've got you in your dinosaur pyjamas while they still fit and your dino slippers and this ridiculous plush robe. I'm holding you whilst I catch up on a television programme and it's like holding a kid rather than a baby. You've got so long today, Sherlock. I've put away your dummy because I don't want you to grow dependent and you seem to have replaced it with your thumb. Suppose I don't have to worry about things such as misaligned teeth, so I'm happy to let you do what you like. 

**10:02 PM:** I just put you to bed and now I'm for bed myself. As I laid you down for your last night in the cot, you opened your eyes, smiled up at me, and said so clearly, "Love you, John." I kissed your head and your cheeks and tucked you in, and you snuggled down and closed your eyes. I adore you Sherlock Holmes, in every variation of you that is, was, and is still to come. Happy birthday.

Stats  
**Weight:** 12.4 kg

 **Height:** 87.1 cm

 **Physical Appearance:** You've grown so much today, Sherlock. Your hair is properly curly now and about a shade darker than it was last week, and it is long enough now to hang in your eyes when you lean over. I'll give it another week or so before we go for your first trim. Height-wise, you now come up to about mid-thigh on me, which is so ridiculous considering you were the length of my arm from elbow to fingertips 10 days ago. As you grow taller, you're slimming up even more. Your baby belly is disappearing and though you're still soft and have a bit of a double-chin, you're losing all of your rolls and the dimples in your bum and thighs.

 **Nappies:** 6 wet -- You're 2 now, so I'm starting the toilet training again at full force tomorrow. Mrs Hudson has agreed to help when she minds you in the mornings. After work I'm picking up a package of training pants and some toddler underwear and we're getting to business.

 **Speech:** Not everything you say is syntax-perfect but you now speak in mostly intelligible phrases. I've found today that I'm able to ask you questions and you can answer to the best of your ability, and you try your best and can get through a short and simple conversation.

 **Memory:** Your memory seems to be about the same as yesterday. No major developments as of yet, but I did notice that when I stood you in the sitting room after returning to 221B, you took off and went straight to the fireplace, where you appeared to look for the skull. You didn't say anything, just stopped and scanned the mantle, I suppose making sure it was still there.

 **Summary:** I've got to get to bed now, as I've an early shift in the morning. I'm going to miss not being home with you during the mornings, but I know that you love Mrs Hudson and I hope you'll enjoy your time with her. Also I hope that you don't terrorise her in some way that only you can. Please remember Sherlock that she isn't as young as she once was and she's got a bad hip, so she can't chase you around the flat after you've managed to nick a pair of scissors. Goodnight, sleep tight, and let's all have a happy tomorrow.


	3. Leaps and Bounds

**DAY 11**

** From Baskerville File #0184245, Effects of A241 **

_... As subjects regain memory, it is important for carers to understand that though they may slowly begin to once again develop awareness of themselves, their lives, and their environments, young subjects are still very much children and require vigilance nearly as much as the traditional child. Though she may have an understanding of activities such as cooking and cleaning, for instance, her impulses, dexterity, emotions, and senses of humour and fun are underdeveloped._

_..._

_Subject #51, at the age of thirty months, without prior coaching, was placed in an untidy room and permitted the access of cleaning supplies. Upon surveying the area, she demonstrated keen awareness of a scrubber and what was labeled as bleach spray and, within moments, attempted to clean a child's crafts table. As she sprayed the solution on the table, however, she proceeded to laugh. Within seconds, her task was forgot in favour of spraying all surfaces of the room, including the walls and floor. Upon redirection, Subject #51 fell into a state of tantrum._

* * *

** On a yellow notepad left on the kitchen counter: **

-around 7:30 or 8 AM: Breakfast -- porridge with blueberries and applesauce -- Just a bit of each in 1 bowl to prevent waste. Let him feed himself unless you find he's making too much of a mess or is playing with his food. I usually give him half a beaker of milk or if we're out, 2 parts apple juice 1 part water.

-After breakfast I usually strip him and give him a wipe down with a warmed wet flannel to refresh him a bit and to clean him of any food. Then I'll dress him for the day. I've set out something for him to wear plus a backup in case he soils the first.

-If convenient place him on his training toilet once every hour or whenever it seems he needs to go. He usually has a dirty nappy around 11 every day so that would be a good time. Otherwise nappies are in the basket by the sofa. He is getting wriggly so be mindful whilst changing him because he will try and get away. I can usually distract him by singing or talking to him.

-12 PM: Lunch -- cheese rolls in the fridge -- Please warm just slightly so they aren't cold and give him a bit of ketchup for dipping. I try and give him water in his beaker with lunch but he isn't too fond. Try it and if he refuses to drink give him juice or milk instead.

-He can have a snack between meals or as a bribe. He enjoys Honey Loops and banana rice cakes the most.

-As far as entertaining him goes, I've left his favourite toys out so he should be fine, just be sure he isn't getting into anything dangerous. I would keep the doors to the flat closed because he has learnt to open the safety gates. Please also avoid allowing him in the bathroom alone.

Thanks again, Mrs Hudson, you're a lifesaver. I need to pop by Tesco's after work but I will be home before 1.

John

* * *

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[MH]: not TO worry deaR the lamb is ju st fine

[J]: Thank you Mrs Hudson

[J]: Has he used the toilet at all

[image sent]

[J]: Mrs Hudson did you mean to send this

[image sent]

[MH]: sorry johN wrong

[MH]: hphoto

[J]: I hope he isn't giving you trouble

[J]: He looks menacing there

[MH]: haVINg a wee

[J]: You or him??

[J]: Nevermind, I'll stay confused

[J]: Thank you for the update Mrs Hudson

* * *

[MH]: camel the ok when 

[MH]: [watergun emoji][pumpkin emoji][dancing woman emoji][dancing woman emoji]

[MH]: [alien emoji][middle finger emoji][eyes emoji][father christmas emoji]

[MH]: [middle finger emoji] asje no [middle finger emoji][pink hearts emoji]

[MH]: California toenail sky waowh

[J]: Mrs Hudson is this Sherlock or have you had a stroke

[J]: Or is this code

[MH]: [middle finger emoji]

[J]: Mrs Hudson

* * *

**Mobile Transcript**  
Outgoing call from JOHN at 10:14:25  
Received by MRS HUDSON at 10:14:58

[MH]: Hello?

[J]: [ _anxiously_ ] Hello, Mrs Hudson. Everything alright?

[MH]: Yes, of course, dear! [ _low murmuring_ ]

[J]: Sherlock's fine?

[MH]: [ _away from the receiver_ ] Say hello, little love.

[S]: Jah-jah-John. Hi-hi! 

[J]: Hi, bub. Was that you sending John the rude emojis?

[S]: I test-ses!

[J]: You're texting? 

[S]: [ _slobbery-sounding_ ] Tesks-ses-y

[J]: [ _chuckle_ ] Alright, then. Have you terrorised Mrs Hudson?

[S]: [ _something mostly incoherent_ ] Meh-husson! Pway hi-a-seek!

[J]: You've played hide-and-seek with Mrs Hudson?

[S]: Yes-yes, hi-a-seek! Hi-a-seek!

[J]: Have fun, Sherlock. Can I speak to Mrs Hudson again?

[S]: No-no-no-no-no-no-no!

[J]: Pleeeease?

[S]: No, no, John! You not!

[J]: [ _fond_ ] I can only speak to you, then?

[S]: Jah-jah-John. Pway hi-a-seek!

[J]: I'll play when I'm home, Sherlock. 

[S]: [ _high-pitched toddler humming, pleased singing_ ]

[J]: Alright, little bub. Let's talk to Mrs Hudson, okay?

[S]: No, no, John! I say!

[J]: Sherlock.

[S]: Pweeze, John. No, no. Talk Shock!

[J]: [ _chuckle_ ] Sherlock.

[S]: [ _squealing and laughter, followed by static sounds as if Sherlock is moving quickly_ ]

[J]: Sherlock, are you running?

[S]: Wuuuuun!

[J]: [ _fond, but needs to go_ ] Alright, Sherlock. Say goodbye.

[S]: No, no, John! Talk Shock! Hi-a-seek!

[J]: Sherlock, give Mrs Hudson back her phone.

[S]: I tesk, Jah!

[ _Mrs Hudson's voice in the background, faint, as if in another room_ ]

[J]: Sherlock, have you run off with Mrs Hudson's phone?

[S]: Hi-a-seek, John.

[J]: Jesus. Are you hiding? [ _pause_ ] You're in the bath, aren't you?

[S]: [ _high-pitched laugh_ ]

[ _In the background, sing-song: Little love? Where aaare you? Come out, come out, wherever you are!_ ]

[J]: [ _laughing_ ] Seems you've been found. I'm going to go.

[S]: No!

[J]: Bye-bye, Sherlock.

[S]: [ _voice beginning to waver_ ] Noooo! John!

[J]: Don't-- Sherlock. I've got to go. I'll be home soon.

[S]: [ _crying_ ]

[J]: Shit. Bye, love. Don't cry.

[S]: [ _louder crying_ ]

[ _rustling and Mrs Hudson's soothing voice: Deary-dear, your John will be here soon._ ]

[J]: God. Bye. Sorry, Mrs Hudson, if you can hear this.

**call disconnected by JOHN at 10:22:11**

* * *

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[J]: Has he settled?

[MH]: poor thiNG crie d himself to a =nap

[J]: God

[J]: Sorry Mrs Hudson, suppose we've learnt that I shouldn't call

[MH]: Quite alright dEa r

* * *

** Journal, Day 11: **

Observations  
**8:01 AM:** I'm writing as I wait for my 1st patient. I hated to leave you this morning and I have to say that I'm missing you terribly already. You were waking just as I was gathering my things to go, and I took you from your cot, changed you, and gave you a snuggle whilst you were still warm and sleepy. I handed you over to Mrs Hudson before you had a chance to wake properly, and to my delight, you were just fine and rested your head on her shoulder. Here's hoping you'll do well today, Sherlock. All versions of you adore Mrs Hudson so I'm unconcerned about that, but mostly I'm worried you'll suddenly remember how to set fires or something equally destructive and poor Mrs Hudson won't be able to thwart you in time. Be good please, little bub, for me. 

**10:58 AM:** Well then. About an hour ago I got a series of odd texts from Mrs Hudson's phone, mostly nonsensical words and ridiculous emojis, particularly the middle finger. Honestly I was afraid she'd had a stroke, so I gave her a call and it was, of course, all you just being a little menace. Though I know it's probable that the middle finger emoji was simply one your tiny thumb randomly found, I can't help but wonder if you knew exactly what you were doing, silly thing. I spoke with you on the phone and dammit, you know how to make a man feel badly about leaving you, don't you? I left you wailing and it was horrible. Poor Mrs Hudson. I'd say poor you, but though I genuinely feel the heart pangs at your tears, I know you're mostly just a charming baby drama queen in a fifty pound cable-knit jumper.

 **11:18 AM:** Apparently you cried yourself into a state of exhaustion and are now asleep. Goddammit, Sherlock!!

 **1:25 PM:** This work in the mornings thing will take some getting used to, I suppose. I'm exhausted already. Thankfully however, I've arrived home to a slightly older you, one I suspect should be able to entertain himself more than littler iterations. It's wholly bizarre, this. When I left you this morning there was no sign of your back molars, but now you're the proud owner of an entire set of baby teeth. Your hair has also got much longer and floppier and it just hangs in spirals in your face. I'll need to clip it back at dinner and I suspect I'll need to take you for a trim this week. When I first arrived home, you were lying under your chair and rolling around a toy car. The moment you heard me, you got up and came running to me yelling "John! John!" That was quite charming. I scooped you up and gave you kisses and ruffled your messy hair, and you puckered your lips and pressed them right to my cheek. You've somehow learnt to do that since yesterday, as last night you were still sticking your open mouth on people and going "maah." I gave you a snuggle after that proper kiss and swung you around a bit. You laughed and laughed, still the charming high-pitched one, and then began yelling for us to play hide-and-seek. I stuck you in the bathtub, pulled the curtain, and left you there whilst I changed and put the kettle on. Is that bad?? Probably, but you were oblivious. I went into the bathroom and "found" you once my tea was ready and you squealed, happy as a clam. 

**2:31 PM:** Toilet training is officially the worst. I'm trying to keep you accountable because I reckon you'll continue to be contrary about this for another few days if I don't, so I put you in a pair of Spiderman pants and am letting you go about the flat trouserless. All the parenting forums suggest it as it's meant to make you feel more aware of yourself and the act of urination. Technically they suggest letting you go completely nude, but that's too weird for me, sorry. I can't help but think the implication is that when you wee you'll no longer have a nappy or training pants to catch it, which will make you uncomfortable and which in turn is meant to cause you to avoid that experience in the future. I've not decided whether or not that's barbaric but honestly, I'm willing to try anything if it means no more wrestling a fully mobile child into a nappy. So far you've not had a wee or poo unless you're holding it in, and you're happily swanning around the flat only half-dressed. I'm making a point to place you on the training toilet every half hour and I believe you're getting annoyed with me but to your credit, you are complying, thank you very much.

 **3:27 PM:** Thanks, Sherlock. You sat on the training toilet for 15 minutes watching Scooby-Doo on the iPad, but not 5 minutes after I got you up and pulled up your pants you came running to me with piss dripping down your legs, saying "Uh oh, John. Uh oh." I got you changed and washed up and we had a little talk about the toilet. You said "Shock not potty" and angrily threw Mr Bumble at your training toilet. Fantastic.

 **4:01 PM:** You've been obsessed with the iPad today. Mostly you watch episodes of Scooby-Doo on YouTube and you've learnt how to click through the suggested videos to find ones to watch. You're not typing yet but I've a feeling you can secretly read a bit or at least can recognize words by sight. Last night I downloaded loads of toddler apps but you're mostly uninterested in anything that isn't loud and terribly annoying. You sat for 20 minutes earlier playing with an app that allows you to click on various animals and make them bark or moo or quack. It's meant to be an animal recognition game with the voice-over asking "Where is the cat?" or "Which animal goes buzz?" but you already know that bit so you spend your time making Darcy Duck quack over and over and over again. Your brain development combined with your returning memory is amusing to me. We've not gone over animals, numbers, or the alphabet in any detail other than in the books we read or in playing with your toys, but you can recognize and identify every animal, every colour, every letter, and all individual numbers (rather than 145, for example, you will say "one four five"). Still, however, you prefer to play and get distracted from the goal of games extremely easily. It's the same with other things. You climbed up in a chair a few minutes ago and yelled "Bwog bwog bwog" over and over until I pulled up my blog. Then you yelled "No John, bwog Shock!" so I pulled up YOUR blog. I even created a new post draft for you because you were so insistent, but before you could do anything further, you got so distracted by tapping the keys that you started laughing and smashing away and even figured out that when you hold down multiple keys at once the laptop makes a beeping sound. That got you squealing. It's terribly charming Sherlock, but I can't help but wonder what the hell I'm going to do when you suddenly remember how to smoke and I find you, a 2 year old, with one of your hidden cigarettes in your mouth looking for matches, or when you start thinking you can leave the flat on your own and take off down the stairs, falling and breaking your arm. Let's bypass all that please. I'd much prefer it.

 **4:56 PM:** You just walked over to your training toilet and sat your plush bear on it. I asked you what Mr Bear was doing and you said "Mr Bear potty, John, shhh!" and you did the "quiet" gesture with your finger at your lips. I swear to God, if you're toilet training yourself I will jump for joy.

 **6:01 PM:** I was gathering together some laundry for the wash when I suddenly heard you scream, which FYI is one of the worst sounds to hear, especially when the child is you and especially when you've been admittedly somewhat unattended for a few minutes. I dropped what I was doing and dashed into the sitting room to find you stood by your training toilet, desperately trying to pull off your pants. You'd got them down just a bit but they were stuck because your thighs were closed together, I suppose because you had to go so badly, so I quickly helped you and sat you on the toilet. You proceeded to have the most explosive poo I've seen come from you since the Shitpocalypse of 2016. I'm wondering if you'd been holding it in for so long, contrary to the end with your refusal to use the toilet, but you simply couldn't stand it a moment more. Whatever the case, thank you little bub, because I don't even want to consider a world in which you let that go in your pants. Of course, cleaning out the training toilet was a harrowing experience in and of itself. Jesus Christ. But you did manage to have your first poo on the toilet and whilst you were doing it you had a wee as well, so I'm chalking this whole thing up as a major success and will be texting your parents about it in a mo.

 **6:48 PM:** After spending an unbelievable amount of time cleaning and sanitising your toilet, I asked you what you wanted for dinner--"you" being the operative word because I'm not at all hungry anymore--and you said, with such seriousness, "Thai." Had a laugh at that, Sherlock, because it's such a You thing and that was with 100 per cent certainty a memory. Of course I gave in and ordered you chicken massaman with rice, and I've got you sat watching a Tom Baker Doctor Who episode while we wait. You're curled up against me with your thumb in your mouth, and I'm feeling terribly fond.

 **8:04 PM:** Following dinner I got your new toddler bed set up with sheets and a blanket and pulled it over so that it will be right beside me at night. I did this because the bed itself only has short safety rails to prevent you from falling, and I don't at all trust you not to wake while I'm still sleeping and climb out. At least this way I'll be able to hear you moving around and will hopefully wake if (who am I kidding, WHEN) you make your attempt. I put you on your bed to see how you liked it and you began to jump on it, so I suppose it suits you fine.

 **9:17 PM:** You're beginning to tire earlier now that you're getting older. As a baby you would stay up until just after 10, I suppose because you had essentially been sleeping all day, but tonight you barely stayed awake through your bath. I had to hold onto you as I gave you a wash to keep you from falling asleep. Afterwards, I got you in your pyjamas and a nappy for the night and put you straight to bed. This is the first night we've not had a cuddle beforehand and truly the first night I didn't need to rock you a bit to get you to sleep. You're growing up. Suppose I should give you a set bedtime now, perhaps 8:30, and I reckon that means we'll need to have dinner and a bath a little earlier. You aging is beginning to pull at my heart a little, Sherlock, as soppy as it sounds. I was mostly amazed when you were smaller because the changes were so drastic and startling that I didn't have a chance to mourn the aspects of you that were going away, but I'm starting to feel it in the way that I suppose a parent would feel watching his child grow up. You're such a little person now with an attitude and likes and dislikes, with contrary moments and affectionate moments. You've got opinions and I've seen you cross with me and I've seen you absolutely delighted with the world. I adore this you, I do, perhaps even more than the sweet, chubby toddler, but I do miss him. I miss you the most, though, the real you. I'm sat here watching more Doctor Who, thinking about how you used to complain when I had it on though you'd sit and watch it with me anyway. I'm thinking about how you'd get bored partway through and would get up to play your violin or would initiate a snogging session or would sometimes fall asleep. I know 11 days isn't too terribly long to be apart, that we've been apart much longer, but we've never been apart like this since we've been together romantically. We were in a good place Sherlock, and though I know we'll be back to it in a few months, I miss it desperately. Goodnight love, from your old sop.

Stats  
**Weight:** 12.7 kg

 **Height:** 88.9 cm

 **Toilet Training:** 1 wee in your pants, 1 poo and wee in the toilet out of your own volition, and 1 more wee in the toilet before your bath but only after being prompted by me -- You've made loads of progress today, Sherlock. I'm proud. Here's hoping tomorrow you'll be entirely toilet trained.

 **Speech:** Your speech is coming along nicely. I've found I can speak to you like normal now, and though you may or may not answer me, I'm under the impression that you know exactly what I'm saying. You're regularly speaking in sentences now, and though your syntax is still not the best, you're more often than not easily understood.

 **Memory:** I'm fairly certain that as of now you know names for pretty much everything, including but not limited to objects, animals, letters, numbers, familiar people, and some places. As far as I can tell you've not yet regained mathematics and though I believe you can recognise words by sight, you're unable to write or, for instance, read a book out loud. I worked with you a bit with sounds but you were completely uninterested. So while I'm sure you can look at the physical appearance of the word "dog" and understand that it means four-legged canine, you haven't grasped why d-o-g makes the sound that it does and therefore cannot read it out loud just yet. I've inferred all of this from the 2 of us playing reading games on the iPad. You are a star at associating written words with images but you do terribly at the games that ask you to match letters with sounds.

 **Summary:** You've grown emotionally and cognitively in a tremendous way today, Sherlock. You're a real person now, and I'm honestly quite enjoying it. Though I know it won't last, I've found myself endlessly amused when you yell at me in your little toddler voice. Looking forward to tomorrow.

* * *

**DAY 12**

** On a yellow notepad left on the kitchen counter: **

Hello Mrs Hudson,

-Please be sure to take Sherlock to the toilet every hour, even if he complains. I've not been able to interact with him this morning, obviously, so it may be that he's aged enough to be able to tell you when he needs to go, but just for today let's do the hourly toilet thing. I'm going to put him in pants if he wakes before I go but if not, I'll leave the pants on the bed with his clothes for the day. If he has an accident in them I've got a few more pairs in the third drawer of the dresser.

-Breakfast and lunch are in the fridge but I see that yesterday you made him something else entirely so that's fine too, whatever you prefer.

Thanks again!!

John

* * *

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[image sent]  
[image sent]  
[image sent]

[J]: Before I forget, here are some recent photos of Sherlock

[J]: He is using the toilet now at least a little and he's gained quite the attitude in the past 2 days

[Mol]: [heart eyes emoji] Stunner.

[L]: Look at that face in the 2nd, looks like he's up to something

[J]: That's because he was

[J]: I took the photo moments before I realised he had unravelled an entire roll of loo roll all over the bathroom

[L]: Kids...

[J]: Indeed

[Mol]: Who is minding Sherlock while you're at work, John? Mrs Hudson?

[J]: Yes, God bless her

[Mol]: If you wanted, I'd be glad to look after him tomorrow. I've got the day off. He might like to see the lab again or perhaps a museum? We can go and see the swans at the park.

[J]: Really?

[Mol]: Yes, of course!

[Mol]: Sorry, is it too forward of me? It's just that I've always loved children, you know, and it's been such a long time since I've seen my nieces and nephew in Kettering.

[Mol]: Obviously, I don't have to. I just thought I'd offer in case Mrs Hudson wanted a day off.

[J]: No of course, Molly, I just wondered if you were genuinely offering. He'd enjoy spending time with you

[J]: If you're sure?

[Mol]: Definitely! I can pop round at 7?

[J]: That would be fantastic, thanks Molly

[J]: Obviously just text if you change your mind

[Mol]: I won't! I'm looking forward to it, John.

[J]: Thanks again, I'll let Mrs Hudson know

* * *

[MH]: awiasl [thumbs up emoji][cat heart eyes emoji]

[MH]: [cat heart eyes emoji][purple heart emoji][watergun emoji]

[MH]: Photosynthesis cheese

[J]: Hello Sherlock

[image sent]  
[image sent]

[MH]: [middle finger emoji]

[J]: Thanks for that

[MH]: [middle finger emoji]

[MH]: sorrY john 

[J]: It's ok Mrs Hudson, I'm used to it

* * *

** Journal, Day 12: **

Observations  
**7:51 AM:** You did fantastic in your new bed last night, Sherlock. Your mattress makes a crinkling sound when you move around, which is great as far as I'm concerned because it wakes me up quite easily, so I was able to thwart your escape attempt at about 4 this morning. I pulled you over your rail and into the bed with me and you went back to sleep once I had you cuddled. You were just getting up for the day when I left this morning, so I didn't get to say hello or even take you to the toilet to see how the training's coming along. I've instructed Mrs Hudson to take you to the bathroom once an hour so hopefully there'll be no accidents today.

 **9:19 AM:** I sent Molly and Greg some new pictures of you, and Molly offered to mind you tomorrow. She said she'd take you to the lab, museum, or maybe to see the swans. I agreed of course and I think you'll have a nice time if you decide to be cooperative. Hopefully she knows what she's getting into, though. Not that you aren't a great kid but you can be difficult to work with in public sometimes, and that goes for all versions of you, not just the tiny ones.

 **12:08 PM:** Mrs Hudson keeps making you meals, Sherlock. Obviously I'm not complaining, and I love her for all she does, you know that, but I wish she wouldn't go through the trouble. She's not our housekeeper, after all, though I suppose that's a bit of a lie, isn't it? I just walked in on her serving you freshly baked homemade macaroni and cheese. Yesterday she made you a cheese omelet with beans for breakfast. Ah well. The flat smells amazing and I've not had lunch, so I suppose I may as well tuck in. Such a hardship, I know.

 **1:57 PM:** You aren't completely toilet trained yet, as we still have to ask you whether you need to go and you did have an accident this morning, but you are greatly improved since yesterday. A few minutes ago all I needed to do was ask "Sherlock, do you have to potty?" and you just nodded and made your way to the bathroom. I went ahead and snapped the training seat to the bathroom toilet because a) it'll keep me from having to wash out your training potty and b) you seem to prefer it. My project for the rest of the day is getting you to tell me with accuracy what type of business you need to take care of, as I'd like to get you started with standing to wee. I'm hesitant about having you stand now because I'm worried you'll get the 2 mixed up or won't realise you also have to poo and will do it on my shoes. I've just been having you sit to go no matter the case. Your toilet seat has a little shield to keep you from accidentally weeing into the air whilst sitting, so I suppose that will suffice for the time being.

 **3:40 PM:** Oh my God. I had you sat on the kitchen counter as I poured us some juice and I had my back turned for what had to be 5 seconds when you dropped a button from your button box into my cup of juice and yelled "spih-mit!" I'll give you 1 guess what you were trying to say. I was obviously a little annoyed that a button from God knows where was dropped in my juice, but you were so triumphant that I couldn't be cross. Instead, I've got you sat naked in the empty bathtub now with 2 cups of water, 1 with blue food colouring in, 1 with red, a box of small bits and bobs from around the flat, and a plastic stirring spoon. You're having the time of your life. Have at it, little bub. I'm happy to see your scientific curiosity make its first appearance.

 **5:49 PM:** Caught you trying to get into your violin. You had the case open and were touching at the strings a little too indelicately for my liking, so I put it up on the mantel out of your reach. You got so cross with me and yelled "Pway vy-win!" I think I'll order you a cheap child's violin online.

 **7:21:** You're getting picky about your food and I don't like it one bit. I could hardly get you to eat more than a few bites, and you got so cross with me when I began trying to feed you myself that you grabbed the spoon in your fist and tossed it across the kitchen. Do not start this, please. You haven't got cases yet, there's no reason for you to ignore your bloody "transport."

 **8:49 PM:** Got you to eat some crisps with me while we watched telly. Obviously not the healthiest choice but much better than a stubborn little boy with a growling stomach. We brushed your teeth after, and I read you a story in bed. You were nodding off throughout it, and it was really the sweetest thing. I'd ask you questions and you'd respond with a bit of nonsense or a little mumble. Once we'd finished, I tucked you in and gave you a kiss and you said "Love you." That was the first time in a few days and the clearest its ever been.

Stats  
**Weight:** 12.9 kg

 **Height:** 90.4 cm

 **Toilet Training:** 1 accident, but otherwise you've been perfect. You're terrible at telling me whether you have to wee or poo. You just say "potty" when I ask what kind, perhaps because you're you and I actually cannot even fathom adult you and I having this conversation. For that matter, though, I can't imagine you saying "potty" but you seem to enjoy saying it now.

 **Speech:** You've started talking to yourself, just little mumblings when you're playing or when you see something interesting. You were playing with your walnut squirrel Sylvanian Family and humming as you played. I got you on video and very much look forward to watching it with you once you're back to normal.

 **Memory:** The food issue! Though I know your infuriating appetite must come back sooner or later, I'm hoping Mrs Hudson simply overfed you for lunch and you weren't hungry at dinner. I will be a grumpy man if my 2 year old decides to ignore his transport. 

**Summary:** Just noticed I referred to you as "my 2 year old." Christ. Goodnight, Sherlock.

* * *

**DAY 13**

** On a yellow notepad left on the kitchen counter: **

Molly,

He is mostly toilet trained now so he's wearing pants. Keep in mind it'll be his first time out of the flat without a nappy. You'll need to take him to the toilet as often as possible, and yes, that involves helping and wiping him. Sorry, and I realise it's bizarre that we're discussing this about Sherlock, but well, it is what it is.

I don't care what he eats, as long as he does. Make him if you have to, even if he whinges or gets cross. I can't deal with this yet.

Thank you. Keep him as long as you like. Mrs Hudson will be here to take him before 2 and I'll be here after.

John

* * *

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[J]: How is he

[image sent]

[Mol]: He does enjoy chemistry, doesn't he?

[J]: Christ

[J]: Where did you get the little goggles?

[Mol]: Toy shop. You'd be surprised what they have for make believe play.

[J]: He's behaved himself?

[Mol]: He's been quite good. We had a bit of an adventure at the park once I realised the swans were giving him a fright, but he loved Hamley's, and I've got him chuffed as nuts in the lab.

[Mol]: We're doing a series of very serious experiments.

[Mol]: With non-toxic, water-based liquids, of course.

[J]: Glad to hear it. Thanks again for minding him

[Mol]: It's been a pleasure.

* * *

[image sent]

[J]: From Molly

[M]: He looks happy.

[J]: He's a happy kid

[M]: Good.

[J]: Mycroft, you old sop

[M]: Sorry?

[J]: You heard me

[J]: Or read me, I suppose

[M]: I'm not sure what you mean.

[J]: Bye Mycroft

* * *

** Journal, Day 13: **

Observations  
**9:01 AM:** Please be good for Molly, please be good for Molly, please be good for Molly. She's a friend who genuinely cares for you Sherlock, and you'll have fun with her if you let yourself.

 **3:16 PM:** Christ, Molly minded you for much of the day. Apparently you were an angel, so thanks for that. You arrived home wearing a pair of child-sized goggles atop your head and with a bag of the most ridiculous toy science equipment Molly must've spent a fortune on. I've got you set up on the sitting room floor with a plastic microscope that actually sort of magnifies and a stack of plastic slides with fake, brightly coloured substances on them. You're the happiest I've seen. And cheers to you for doing well with your toilet training. No accidents to report, but apparently Molly had to wipe your arse in a public toilet. I'm not sure how you'll react to this when you're back to normal, Sherlock, but God help you.

 **5:49 PM:** Your parents are visiting Saturday and staying the night. I guess I'll make up the upstairs bedroom for them. Or should I have them stay in our room? I don't mind it I suppose, but there is something uncomfortable about it considering the fact that we've had every kind of sex there. For that matter we've had sex upstairs too, and well, on the sofa and against the wall and in the shower... God. I can't think about this and your parents in the same breath. They'll sleep upstairs. We only did it up there 3 or 4 times and it was nothing particularly dirty. Fuck, I miss you, Sherlock. When you are back we are going to have the most incredible amount of sex. I'm so frustrated I could die.

 **6:52 PM:** I'm going to keel over with laughter. You just walked up to me with this innocent expression on your face and said "Bart's pweeze, John. Body, pweeze." You weird kid. I love you to bits.

 **7:18 PM:** You ate a bit of spag bol but not nearly enough. Mostly you played with the noodles as if they were worms. Molly said you ate most of your lunch, and you were having your porridge when I left this morning, so I'm hoping you won't be hungry. Sherlock, your mind is one thing, but that body of yours is tiny and growing and you've got to feed it. I'll try a jar of baby food before your bath. You always loved the peas, so maybe you'll go for it.

 **8:37 PM:** Seems the best way to get you to eat is to spoon it into your mouth when you're thoroughly distracted. You ate an entire jar of mashed peas whilst playing in the bath. I sat there and fed you bite by bite and you opened your mouth for the spoon and floated your duckie around. Is this what I'm to do, then? Maybe I should try this with adult you. 

**9:15 PM:** You had an enormous poo after your bath, and since you're cleared out, I felt confident enough to let you wear pants to bed rather than a nappy. Here's hoping that wasn't a mistake. 

**12:07 AM:** Midnight toilet run. You woke me by leaning over your rail and smacking me in the face. Thanks. When I woke you murmured "Potty John, pweeze." Good on you, little lad.

Stats  
**Weight:** 13.3 kg

 **Height:** 91.9 cm

 **Physical Appearance:** I've made you an appointment for a trim tomorrow. Your hair is entirely too long to be practical, as it's hanging in your face and is the most riotous mess in the morning it's unbelievable. It has darkened a shade since last week but is still quite light. Your eyes are getting greyer and greyer. Also, and on the entirely horrifying end of things, the scars on your back are becoming more prominent. I've seen them on your little body every single day for the past 13 days and yet I'll never get used to those kinds of scars on a child. I'll never get used to those kinds of scars on you, period.

 **Summary:** You're getting more and more extraordinary every day and I absolutely adore that. Thank you for wanting to see a dead body at Bart's, Sherlock. It was frightening to hear from a 2 year old but not at all unusual for you and therefore charming as hell. Goodnight, love.

* * *

**DAY 14**

** On a yellow notepad left on the kitchen counter: **

Mrs Hudson,

I'll be home early today, around noon. Please hold off on feeding Himself lunch.

John

* * *

**Voicemail Transcript**  
Outgoing call from MRS HUDSON at 9:01:29  
Missed by JOHN at 9:02:17

[S]: Jaaaaah. Hi John. Talk Shock, pweeze. Hi John! _John!_ [ _distant, as if mouth is turned away from receiver_ ] Hussen, where John? _Joooooohn!_ Pweeze! Spiment! My-scope! John-John!

* * *

**Voicemail Transcript**  
Outgoing call from MRS HUDSON at 9:09:32  
Missed by JOHN at 9:10:20

[S]: Buzz-buzz, bee say. Love you, John. Bye-bye!

* * *

** Journal, Day 14: **

Observations  
**2:34 PM:** Sometimes you're just the most charming child, Sherlock. You left me a series of messages at work that I've saved to my phone. "Buzz-buzz bee say" should be set as my ringtone, to be honest. I'm considering it. I'm sat now at the barber watching you have your hair trimmed. I've just told them to frame your face a bit more so it no longer flops in your eyes. You're being a good sport about it and are sat watching the mirror with fascination. Thanks for not freaking out, little bub. I was 50/50 about it meself, especially after we went for a proper sit-down lunch and you would hardly stay in your booster seat. You were completely uninterested in your chicken fingers and chips, and you only blew bubbles in your drink. Good job the waitress thought you were "adorable" (her words) because otherwise I'd think she'd be right pissed at the mess you made.

 **4:17 PM:** I've got you running around at the park to burn off some of that energy. You're having a marvelous time and your cheeks are pink from the wind and your laughter. I swung you around a bit and you tried to tackle me in the grass. All of this gave me a chance to get some snacks in you, and thank God you took to munching some Honey Loops by the handful as you play. Distract the lad--I've got to remember that.

 **6:59 PM:** Mrs Hudson made us a shepherd's pie. We'll all 3 sit down to eat in a mo and I've got the iPad queued up with episodes of Scooby-Doo to distract you whilst I spoon food into your mouth. Please tell me you'll get over this, Sherlock. I know you truly won't but I can only hope that when you're 4 or 5 you'll be aware enough to know that though Sherlock the Man can get away with an unhealthy eating pattern, Sherlock the Boy actually needs to eat regularly. This spoon-feeding-whilst-distracting-him thing can only last so long.

 **8:41 PM:** Tonight I got you all snuggled into bed and we prepared to read. I opened up Peter Rabbit and you started hitting at the book and yelling "no!" You absolutely refused to read it. I told you that was fine, that we just wouldn't read tonight, and you said "No, no John! Bugs, pweeze." Which explains why we read the 1st chapter of this terribly boring entomology book that was on your shelf. There were hardly any pictures! But you sat and listened and stroked the terribly accurate scientific drawing of a silverfish as I read the riveting chapter entitled "The head, ingestion, utilisation and distribution of food." Jesus Christ.

Stats  
**Weight:** 14 kg

 **Height:** 94.8 cm

 **Physical Appearance:** Your haircut turned out great. It's functional and not too short and most importantly you're able to play and eat without it getting caught in your eyes and mouth. In other news, you grew loads today. You're 14 kg now, and nearly 95 cm. Thank Christ you're somehow gaining weight in proportion to your height even though your eating has gone to shit. Again, I'm hoping it's all a phase. I need to text your mum about how you ate as a kid. You weren't terribly skinny until you were a teenager from what I've seen in photographs, so perhaps you're just going through something as you make your way through the Terrible Twos.

 **Memory:** Your interests are beginning to shift and are aligning more with the Sherlock I know and love. I'd honestly thought for a while there that you were the most ordinary child in the world and that even your memory returning wasn't changing that, but I see now that you're coming back. On our outing today I noticed that you recognised where you were much of the time. You were familiar with the barber shop, the one I always go to for my haircuts, and I saw you making eyes at a woman at a nearby table in the restaurant--my gut is telling me that she was a criminal of some sort and that I needed to call the police, but I very quickly shut down that thought due to my realisation that it was a spectacularly stupid idea. "On what grounds shall we arrest her?" "My 2 year old is looking at her funny." Wonderful.

 **Summary:** I just called you "my 2 year old" again. God help me. I'm obviously resisting that since it's weird, you know, feeling parental towards the child version of the adult man you're in love with, but I honestly don't know if I SHOULD resist it so much. Why not just fully bask in feeling like this wonderful child's dad? Obviously when your memory is completely back and you're old enough to care for yourself we'll go back to a flatmate relationship until you're an adult, so it isn't as if I should be afraid of making our adult relationship creepy. I'm not raising you like a parent. I'm simply caring for you until you can do it yourself. So why not call you mine? You are. Little Sherlock is mine to care for and cuddle, teenage Sherlock will be mine to be friends with and to feed and look out for when he's being an idiot, and adult Sherlock will be my lover, my partner in life, my best friend. You're absolutely mine. Why would I deny that?

* * *

**DAY 15**

** Mobile Texting Transcript **

[image sent]  
[image sent]

[J]: Hello Mum, Sherlock sends his love

[Mummy]: John, look at my boy! He's got a haircut!

[J]: Yes, I had the barber to give him a bit of a trim. I couldn't handle the hair in his face

[Mummy]: Oh, but those soft baby curls are just delicious! I couldn't bear to part with them until Sherlock was nearly four. 

[J]: Sorry then that I didn't keep them until Saturday at least

[Mummy]: No worries, dear. The longer hair was a right pain. I would pull it back in a bun like a ballerina when he would eat.

[J]: Speaking of, what sort of eater was he as a child

[Mummy]: Is he not eating for you?

[J]: Only if I've got him distracted. His eating isn't the best as an adult so I worry about him not getting enough

[Mummy]: He was a fine eater for us, that is until he went through puberty and got skinny as a rake, picky, and so moody he nearly ran Dad and I ragged.

[J]: Can't wait for that

[Mummy]: But I wouldn't worry, John. Children at Sherlock's age are learning what they like and dislike, and sometimes food is what they dislike. Give it time. He will work through it.

[Mummy]: And if he doesn't, we will talk some sense into that silly head.

[J]: Thank you Mum

[Mummy]: Any time, dear. Dad and I are looking forward to the weekend.

[J]: Us too

* * *

[Mol]: Happy birthday, Sherlock!

[video sent]

[J]: Thank you Molly. As you can see he is still enjoying his toy microscope.

[Mol]: xoxo [pink hearts emoji]

* * *

[video sent]

[L]: A bit of a song from NSY

[J]: Oh God

[J]: Sherlock will die

[L]: Save it for him

[J]: Obviously!!

* * *

[MH]: John, please expect a delivery at noon.

[video sent]

[J]: Sherlock says thank you.

[MH]: So I see.

* * *

** Journal, Day 15: **

Observations  
**8:14 AM:** I'm off today so I thought the 2 of us would have a nice day together. You're officially 3 today, little bub. Happy birthday. I've got you sat on my lap whilst we watch cartoons and have some cereal, still in our pyjamas. You're actually doing a fine job of eating this morning, not quite as well as usual, but at least it's something. Perhaps you're humouring me for your birthday. Doubt it.

 **9:27 AM:** Christ, Lestrade has texted a video of half of NSY singing an idiotic song whilst wearing deer stalkers. You will kill them. I can't wait to show you when you're old enough to understand. I just showed this version of you and you said "Strade!" and then took my phone and ran off with it.

 **11:35 AM:** Your little violin arrived from Amazon Prime. I'm waiting until later to give it to you. Mrs Hudson has baked a cake and we're going to have a personal celebration for you after lunch. Mycroft texted to say that we should expect a package at noon. Wonder what extravagant purchase he has made now?

 **12:17 PM:** It was a child-sized chemistry set, as in a legitimate working chemistry set, just smaller, and I suspect it cost several hundred pounds. You are going to love it but holy shit, Mycroft.

 **2:19 PM:** I adore you. You sang the birthday song with Mrs Hudson and I and you clearly knew all the words. After, you clapped your hands and yelled "Happy birthday me!" Mrs Hudson and I were in stitches. Right now you're sat playing with your violin. You aren't yet coordinated enough to play it properly, but you know (without me telling you, I should say) how to draw the bow across the strings. I reckon you'll be playing for real next week.

 **4:07 PM:** I asked you if you wanted to read, and you nodded and ran straight to your bedroom and took a book from your shelf. After you had it, you came back into the sitting room, held up the book, Psilocybin Mushrooms of the World, and yelled "Si-ben Mushoom!" Cue my disturbed face at the fact that a 3 year old wanted to read a book on psychedelic mushrooms. Needless to say, we read a bit until you got distracted and decided you wanted to play with your chemistry set. I set it up on a short table in the sitting room so you can stand and use it as you would your adult-sized one in the kitchen. Again, without my having to tell you anything, you knew exactly what to do. It's bizarre watching such a little boy work a chemistry set, turning those knobs and slipping the preprepared slides in place. You love it. You've been working at your table for nearly an hour now, which is impressive considering you usually get bored no more than 10 minutes after beginning an activity, if even that.

 **6:59 PM:** I had to drag you away from your chemistry set for dinner. You refused to eat even a single bite and instead whinged and cried for your "my-scope." We're not doing this, Sherlock. I've got you held hostage in your highchair until you eat something. You've got the sourest look on your face and every time I try and talk to you, you turn your head and yell "No!" What the hell, Sherlock. Why this?

 **7:27 PM:** Is this cruel? Am I horrible? You're still sat there. I was considering letting you out but you pissily knocked your bowl onto the floor, spilling your food. So now I'm sat in a chair beside you, calmly asking you to please eat. I feel like a hostage negotiator. 

**7:48 PM:** Oh my God. You are such a little shit and I don't even feel badly for saying it about a child. I gave you a bowl of cereal and told you I'd let you go back to your microscope if you took 6 bites of it and you stared me in the eye and--just to reiterate, you're fucking 3 years old!!!--proceeded to take exactly 6 bites. You then threw the spoon on the floor, shoved the bowl away, knocking it over and spilling the milk, and then screamed as loud as you could until I got you out. You even gave me a kick when I picked you up. Seriously Sherlock, I'm genuinely cross with you right now and not in a frustrated parent way. We are not doing this again. Next time you can go without if you prefer. Jesus Christ that was nearly an hour of arguing with you, you stubborn-arse thing.

 **8:21 PM:** So I was just sat on the sofa, watching you playing with that damned chemistry set, when you looked up, stared at me for a moment, and then stopped what you were doing and slowly walked over to me. Once you got to me, you crawled up onto my lap, said "I love John" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. You then let me hug you and hold you, and I tickled you and told you to stop being such a stubborn little menace and you giggled until you lost your breath. Apology accepted, little bub.

 **9:05 PM:** After your bath I decided I wanted to rock you to sleep for the first time all week, and you let me. I sang some cheesy songs, and you blew a raspberry at me but smiled when you did it. I've got you all tucked into bed now, and you're on your way to dreamland as I write. I'm really not looking forward to more fights as you grow, though I know there will be some. But I suppose as long as you show your heart afterwards like you just did, I won't mind so much.

Stats  
**Weight:** 14.3 kg

 **Height:** 96.1 cm

 **Memory:** I'm not at all convinced that you aren't mostly cognisant now. Your interests in chemistry, botany, and entomology are back, you can clearly recognise and/or read enough to recall complicated book titles, you know enough and are emotionally mature enough to take my "6 bites" plea literally and to do it in a mean-spirited way. You also showed keen understanding that I was upset with you and you decided all on your own to apologise and adjusted your attitude in accordance with my feelings. That's something I definitely don't think you could have done even 2 days ago. Your mental and emotional growth astounds me, Sherlock.

 **Summary:** Overall, this has been a ~~year~~ week of significant growth. You're now fully toilet trained, and I'm seeing so many more glimpses of my Sherlock. I've a feeling the next few "years" of your life will be more and more emotionally difficult as you learn how to be a person again. But I promise that I will love you through every bit of it. Happy birthday, dear Sherlock. See you in the morning.


End file.
